Fates Intertwined
by ElvenDestiny
Summary: Fate brings two lives together in unlikely ways. At Gozaburo’s grave, Kaiba wonders why he’s always trapped between love and hate. Things spiral quickly out of control when Amelda [Alister] seeks revenge. Maybe he doesn’t even need it…
1. My name is Kaiba

My name is _Kaiba_

By ElveNDestiNy, written February 6, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Amelda (original Japanese), Alistair (English dub), Alister (English subtitles), Alastor...you get the point. I originally wrote using Alistair but I think I'll just stick with Amelda, since everything else is the Japanese name.

- o - o - o - o -

He hadn't come here since the funeral. It was raining, and the cemetery was deserted. The effort of battling the elements was too much for most people, even to remember their loved ones. Kaiba wasn't even sure why he was here now. Maybe to reassure himself that Gozaburo was dead. But he hadn't needed reassurance for all these years, until now. He knew what had changed, but his mind still shied away from the name, the image of an angry and bitter duelist with red hair.

He studied the gravestone in silence, remembering the day with a strange clarity. He had killed him, hadn't he? Pushed him out the window with his own two hands. Didn't stay to watch, turned away with a dark and deadly satisfaction. He still didn't regret it.

Someone was coming now, a man and a little girl with a bundle of flowers in her hand. They came close to him, stopping on the burial site next to Gozaburo's. The little girl placed the flowers in front of the marble block while Seto read the carved script. Beloved wife and mother. Irritated, he turned back to his own object. There were no such niceties carved into Gozaburo's slab of rock. It had been neglected and the white marble had turned a dirty green. He had been fifty-two when he died.

"What's your name?" The little girl asked before her father could stop her. She was looking at him with curiosity.

It took him longer than he realized to find his voice. "My name is...Kaiba." He had never hesitated calling himself that before.

It was true, wasn't it? He'd become like the one who had shaped him, despite his promises to himself to be different. In the end, he was Gozaburo's legacy, his heir in all the ways, just as he was supposed to be.

The father grabbed the girl's hand and they hurried away. Seto watched them leave, the child's plastic raincoat a bright, garish spot of yellow color in the grey world.

_He has nothing to do with me._ Kaiba remembered saying it to the one who hated him. So many people hated him, but this was the only one who mattered. Not that he could blame him for it. He hated himself, for his weakness and all the ways that he had succumbed to Gozaburo's rules and dictates and whims. He hated himself because he had let Mokuba be brought into this kind of hell, had failed in protecting him because the person that should have protected them became their greatest danger.

It gradually came to his senses that there was someone standing behind him, and he knew exactly who it was. He looked down at the flower he grasped in his hand—a white rose—and wondered why he had bought it. Wondered if Gozaburo was laughing at his weakness even now.

"You loved him." The words had him stiffening instinctively, the harsh but somehow caressing tone reminding him that he was caught forever between love and hate. There wasn't anything to deny. It was the most ironical thing—and maybe that was why he had bought a flower, because even now he hid under the mask of being normal.

It was worse than the physical abuse—he could have taken it, _did_ take it. How could something like love be so ugly? How could it be a nightmare? His mistake was that he had loved a monster. He had been young and naïve and trusting, and he had been a fool.

He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Except maybe he already did, with this young man that showed him a reflection of himself, who forced him to face the truth and all of its accompanying cruelties.

They were so very similar, really. And eventually it becomes hard to determine who's on the 'good' side and who's on the 'bad' side. Wasn't it right, to cleanse the world of such horrors as war and power and corruption? At the expense of everyone's lives—to wipe the world clean, a blank slate?

He wished he could do it with his own life. But even if he could have started over, it might not have changed anything. Perhaps he would have protected Mokuba better. Taken care of him more.

It would have been different for the lithe duelist standing behind him. He might have saved his brother. Again, Kaiba was struck at the similarities in their lives, bound and destroyed by Gozaburo. He remembered being trapped in the illusion during their duel, remembered the sheer terror of knowing Mokuba was on a crashing plane. He hadn't been afraid of losing his soul, because he didn't matter anymore. But _Mokuba_…

They were standing in the rain. Neither of them had umbrellas; both wore trench coats. It might have been a funny scene. It was only sad.

They stood there in silence like statues, and the world wept for them, because they couldn't weep for themselves.

Kaiba finally turned around, and serious gray eyes caught his. They blazed hatred and pity, and something harder to accept. Understanding.

But it didn't change anything.

"Amelda. You've come for me, then?" In a way, it was a relief.

"I've come to make you suffer."

"I know. Thank you."

"But I won't. What you do to yourself is worse than anything I could do to you, so what's the point?" Kaiba could have cried out at those words, but he didn't. Numbly, he accepted them, knowing they were true.

"There's a fine line between love and hate, isn't there?" He waited, maybe for a response that he didn't get. "Sometimes they're even the same thing." There was still no answer, but there were a million words trapped in those blue eyes. Blue eyes with all the turmoil of stormy seas.

"Goodbye, Kaiba."

- o - o - o - o -

This was pretty much a one-shot before I decided to develop this into a story, so please review!


	2. Vengeance in my heart

Vengeance in my heart

By ElveNDestiNy, written February 7, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Nothing really to say; couldn't resist writing more. This doesn't 'follow' the last one, but _Fates Intertwined_ was originally just a series of loosely connected one-shots. Don't be confused if you're reading this right after the last chapter; this is from Amelda's perspective and takes place a year later.

o - o - o - o -

He went back to the cemetery only once. Out of sheer curiosity, probably. The people looked at him strangely; he wasn't dressed as if he had come to mourn. Amelda was looking for someone living, not dead, and they must have just missed each other because there was a white rose lying on the grass before the headstone, so fresh that he could see dewdrops on the petals.

After that, he didn't seek him out anymore. It was odd; for a long time he had trailed Seto Kaiba everywhere, biding his time, trying to determine what would be best for revenge – what would hurt Kaiba the most. In the end, he had only found Mokuba, the little brother, the one weakness that didn't fit with the image Kaiba had so carefully built for himself. And despite how hardened he was to pain and cruelty, Amelda didn't have the heart to hurt the child. Not when he was so much like his own brother. He and Kaiba were too alike; hurting him was like hurting himself. But that was the point, wasn't it?

Kaiba's mask had slipped only once. He remembered clearly how vulnerable the curve of his mouth had been, how bright those blue eyes were, revealing all the pain that was usually well hidden from the world.

It was why he had come back to this site – because he felt some restless need to see him again, even though he didn't expect to. To find out the truth behind those cold blue eyes. That, and because there was unfinished business between them, a bond...he didn't understand it himself, but that didn't change the fact that it was there. As if he _needed _to ease the other's suffering.

He didn't seek him out anymore, but they met again anyway. Maybe it was fate; maybe it was just luck, or one of life's little idiosyncrasies. It was almost a full year later.

It was the kind of thing where he just walked into a club and immediately saw him, sitting alone in the corner with a glass of golden liquid on his table. Not that Kaiba would ever let himself lose control through alcohol. Others called it power – it was, in a kind of way. They had both grown up in situations where they were helpless, where they could only react to what life threw at them. The lesson of how precious control could be had not been lost on them.

Kaiba hadn't changed much, except that he looked a little more tired, like he had passed from anger and rebellion to despair. Amelda almost smiled to know that he hadn't lost the knack, after all. He was still one of the few people in the world who could read Kaiba with a quick study. Maybe it was because he had observed him for so long in the past, but over the years of his life, he had discovered that few people took the time to look beneath the surface of anything. Kaiba wasn't a master of illusion or even a particularly good actor—it was just that no one made the attempt to try. Except for Amelda.

"I've been looking for you," came the hoarse whisper as he neared the table. Amelda stared at Kaiba for a moment, concealing his surprise.

"Why?" His question was harsher than he had meant it to be.

"Your brother…"

"What about him?" He grabbed Kaiba by the wrists; the brunette twisted away but didn't break free, though he could have. He was surprisingly strong for someone so slender; then again, Amelda was the same. Appearances were deceptive. "Tell me," he hissed, all pretense of calmness dropped instantaneously.

"He's not dead." Blue eyes stared at him, challenged him. Amelda couldn't have hated him more, in that one instant. His hands tightened around Kaiba's wrists in an extremely painful grip, but he didn't notice and Kaiba didn't say anything. He couldn't say why he believed him so completely, why he never doubted that Kaiba was telling the truth. Why, at his three words, Amelda had discarded what he had seen in front of his eyes – the tank exploding, the tank that Amelda had just told Miruko to enter.

Kaiba put his black briefcase on the table and flipped it open with a sharp click. "All prisoners captured are photographed." His voice was brisk and dispassionate as he slid a small photo towards Amelda, who looked down at it numbly. "This was taken a few years ago."

"Where is he?" _He's not dead…not _dead_…_ Everything was lost after he had heard those words. Amelda stared blindly at the young man sitting before him.

"I don't know. I've searched for him with all the considerable resources at my disposal. All I can tell you is that he's alive – somewhere out there."

Defeat. Guilt. A heartbreaking, crushing anguish. To have come so close, to have been given fragile hope, only to have it slaughtered – his eyes blazed grey and he didn't care that he could feel everyone looking at them, staring. It is the nature of angst, that it is a private torment, more grotesque for the fact that it is forced to be on display before eyes that cannot understand, whatever their good intentions. It is also human nature, to love the spectacle of personal suffering exhibited in the public, the way it somehow cheapens the meaning of pain, while making it all the more horrifying.

"We could search together." Amelda looked at Kaiba for a moment before he understood the words. The monogrammed letters on the lapel of Kaiba's trenchcoat seemed to mock him, reminding him of how many times he had seen the exact same symbol of power during the war that had destroyed his world.

Now the young CEO of that same company, so famed for his arrogance, was offering him an uneasy sort of alliance. A pact built on bonds of guilt and something else, something more, that neither of them completely understood.

"Yes." He said it without meaning to. What he _should _have said was that he worked alone – he had _always _worked alone – but every time he was with Kaiba his life changed again, and the whole world shifted. So he said the things that were on his mind, things that he ordinarily would never have voiced aloud.

Kaiba made an odd little sound and Amelda looked down at him curiously, almost dispassionately. He finally realized how crushingly his hands held the other's wrists, and he let go. But the sudden rough movement shifted the long sleeves that otherwise never would have moved, buckled in place. For a moment he saw shiny, raised marks on skin, and then Kaiba jerked back, standing, and the full glass of alcohol was knocked over. Amelda reached out instinctively to stop the spill, but he knew what he had seen.

_I might need you right now for the sake of my brother, but you're hurting, too_. It was a weapon, one that he knew he would never use against Kaiba, but a weapon nonetheless. Revenge should have given him some sort of satisfaction, joy. Instead, discovering Kaiba's secrets only made him tired—tired of how difficult life could be.

Blue eyes met grey eyes, and both looked quickly away, unable to stand facing a mirror. _So now you know_… Either could have said it. Amelda was a skilled dissembler; now he was disconcerted to find that a talent cut both ways. He had never felt so exposed, as if nothing was between them except truth.

Yet in the end there was hope, and his brother to find and to search for, with his new partner. And he finally understood revenge then - an enemy to himself.

o - o - o - o -

**Please review**—even though there are more chapters to read! Thanks!


	3. Odd sorts of friendship

Odd sorts of friendship

By ElveNDestiNy, written February 27, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

o - o - o - o -

Kaiba stared at the address that Amelda had left him and then at the map on the computer screen in front of him that showed the exact location and the fastest route to get there. There was also a telephone number, and Kaiba's hand reached towards the phone automatically. It would be easier to simply call, or to let his employees handle it. He regretted his words to Amelda, but this was it. His promise (if he had promised anything, exactly) was fulfilled. But somehow he couldn't envision himself saying this over the phone. It would be too cruel.

He didn't understand why he cared if it would be cruel or not. It was none of his business. He had no obligation to Amelda and there was no reason why he had stayed up late over the past few weeks, searching for Amelda's brother.

He hadn't had much time to spend with Mokuba lately. Sunday mornings were reserved for Mokuba; it had been this way ever since he had pulled himself back from the edge of disaster. Kaiba wasn't stupid enough to overwork himself into that state again, but Mokuba had come in last Sunday morning to see his older brother bent over the computer, hacking into some private governmental files to see if there was anything about what happened to the prisoners of a past war.

Kaiba exited the window immediately, but through some special sense that Mokuba had, his brother had realized immediately what he was doing. "I'm sorry," Seto had said, knowing that his little brother was upset when he was so distant. He never apologized to anyone but Mokuba.

"It's all right," Mokuba said. Being one year older hadn't changed him much, except he was a little quieter. Sometimes Seto missed the exuberant energy in Mokuba, which had somehow balanced his own everlasting fatigue. He didn't want to ever see Mokuba become like himself…it was what he worked for so hard, to give his brother something _better_. "It's important to you to find his brother, isn't it?"

"Yes," he admitted, though he didn't know why. "I won't anymore, if it cuts into our time together."

"No, I want you to," Mokuba said firmly. "I see you every day, even if we never have time to do anything together. He's been separated from Miruko for…_years_."

"Almost ten years," Seto said softly.

"He must miss him so much…"

And that was that. Mokuba had understood. He was glad of his brother's dedication. It worried him to see Seto working so hard, almost lapsing into the condition he'd been before, but it was also a good thing, Mokuba decided. He knew how much Seto needed this…to prove that he wasn't like Gozaburo, wasn't the product that Gozaburo had tried to make out of him.

Before he left, Mokuba impulsively ran to his brother than gave him a quick hug. Seto smiled absently, hand ruffling his brother's spiky hair. It was these little displays of affection that belied the cold exterior he showed to the world, and Mokuba cherished them all the more for their rarity.

Once his brother than left, however, Kaiba turned back to his work. He needed to speak with Amelda, but even as he picked the phone up and dialed the numbers written on the paper, he wondered what he could say. The phone rang once and then he lost his nerve and hung up before it was answered. It was six in the morning; he had probably woken Amelda up.

Finally realizing that he'd already decided what he was going to do, Kaiba picked the phone up again and called his secretary. "Rearrange any meetings I have today. I'll be gone for a while, so if anyone asks for me you know what to do," he said tersely. She was used to it and knew better than to ask for any reasons.

"If someone by the name of Amelda asks for me, contact me immediately. Otherwise, under no conditions do I want to talk to anyone, with the exception of Mokuba, until further notice, do you understand? I don't care if it's the CEO of Industrial Illusions that wants me." His secretary made some appropriate remark and he hung up, amazed this one had been around for a month so far.

Within the next half hour he found himself standing in front of a very decent, though small, house. It was in a nice residential district and there were children playing on the street, which Kaiba found odd. He couldn't imagine Amelda fitting in here, not with his biker ways and nonconformist clothing and personality.

He rang the doorbell after he realized he had just been standing there for a few minutes, staring at the roses growing in the front yard. Briefly the thought crossed his mind that it must look ridiculous for him to be here. Before he had time to dwell on this rather upsetting consideration, the door opened.

It was not Amelda. It was the blond-haired ruffian, another Doom biker that Kaiba faintly remembered as being Amelda's companion, that stood looming in the doorway glaring at him. Evidently he had been sleeping when Kaiba's early morning visit woke him, and he was not a good mood. Recognition and surprise flashed in his blue eyes before they examined him warily. "Why are you here?"

"I'm looking for Amelda," Kaiba replied. Damned if he'd say why. Somehow the thought that he still lived with his biker friend was even more bizarre than the fact that they had chosen to live _here_, in this house.

"Raph, who is it?" _Well, now,_ Kaiba thought. He should've expected it. The owner of the Australian accent appeared, looking annoyed at being woken up. His eyes widened when he saw Kaiba. "It's the bloke that Amelda's all hung up over!"

"I need to see him," Kaiba said calmly. "He left me this address."

"Amelda gave it to you?" the newcomer asked, looking as if he were about to close the door in Kaiba's face. The disbelief was insultingly clear in his tone. "He's not here."

"Varon," the blond said warningly.

Kaiba ignored him and focused on Varon. "Do you know where he is?"

Varon shrugged. "Could be anywhere. We don't answer to each other."

Forced to honesty and not wanting to continue this conversation longer than he needed to, Kaiba snapped out, "I need to find him. It's about his brother."

"His brother?" If anything, Raphael seemed more hostile. "From what I know, Amelda wants you dead for what you did to his brother."

It took just a moment for Kaiba to look past the words. "You know, don't you?" He stared at the blond, angry at the waste of time. "You know where Amelda is."

"What did you tell him about his brother? Amelda hasn't been the same."

"His brother's alive," Kaiba said absently, realizing that they were only trying to protect their friend.

"You're lying. Amelda saw his brother killed before his eyes. As in, killed by tanks from _KaibaCorp_," Raphael said coldly.

"I'm not here to explain myself to you," Kaiba said, matching him in tone. "Now are you going to tell me where he is or do you want him to wait for my news?"

Varon considered him for a long time. Kaiba stared back, wondering at the strange kind of friendship between the three. Just as he was about to lose his patience, he got the answer he wanted.

"He's at the orphanage down the street."

o - o - o - o -

Evidently Amelda went there often to spend time with the children. Kaiba was beginning to get a better grasp of his former opponent's personality, though he was still puzzled. The image that he had of Amelda in his mind didn't include time at an orphanage, or the de facto 'family' that he had encountered in that very normal house.

Amelda was just coming out as he arrived. He tensed with surprise as he saw Kaiba, and for a moment his eyes flickered down to the covered arm.

Kaiba gritted his teeth as he remembered how intimately Amelda knew his secrets. That small, careless accident had led to this virtual stranger finding out about something stupid he'd done in the past. He'd shown him how weak he'd been, succumbing to something that he reviled himself for, even now. Amelda knew what no one else did, save Mokuba.

But Kaiba was discovering secrets, too. Finding him at an orphanage—it belied the bitter exterior that Amelda showed to the world. So he met the grey gaze unflinchingly.

"Come with me to KaibaCorp," was all he said.

o - o - o - o -

Kaiba's private office reflected his opulence while still being stylish and elegant. It was, Amelda thought, exactly what he would have expected. One side of the room offered a stunning view of the entire city through its clear glass. Of course, Kaiba had instinctively grasped the unexplainable correlation between height and power. KaibaCorp's tower was the highest in the city and this office was on the top floor, despite the time he must waste every day coming up here. Amelda looked around in undisguised assessment, but privately he knew he was just stalling.

"Why have you brought me here?" he asked Kaiba, who had sat down and yet managed to retain an aura of arrogance. It shouldn't have surprised him; after all, he was in the heart of Kaiba's kingdom.

"I thought you wanted to see your brother again?" Kaiba said airily, infusing the words with a sense of casual indolence.

"You've found him?" Amelda's voice grew sharper with his anxiety, and he tried not to overreact to those careless words. Kaiba was enjoying this game, damn him, but he had no choice but to play along. "Where is he?"

"I'm bringing him in. Have a seat," Kaiba said, gesturing at the chair across the table. Amelda reluctantly did so, hating the amused blue eyes that took in his every reaction.

A few minutes passed, during which he froze into stillness, painfully aware that Kaiba's eyes were still on him, watching. At last, he couldn't quite contain himself anymore. "Am I the new object for your cruelty, Kaiba?"

"I'm doing you a favor, remember?" was the cool reply.

Amelda stood up and turned to the door as if to leave, hearing the almost soundless scrape of Kaiba's chair as the other stood as well. Whatever Kaiba might have said or done to prevent him from walking out was lost, because at that moment the door opened, and three people came in.

He was half hidden between the two men in suits, obviously employees of KaibaCorp, and there was a sullenness to his stance that suggested that he had been brought here against his will.

"_Miruko_…" Amelda whispered, too stunned to step forward, to do anything. He looked at the troubled young teenager before him and the grey eyes that would have matched his identically, if the color were a little darker. The hair was more red than his own dark magenta, but even so, the resemblance was unmistakable.

o - o - o - o -

Now edited and slightly revised. As always, please review! Thanks - E.D.


	4. Children of war

Children of war

By ElveNDestiNy, written March 9, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: I never realized that orphanages are so popular in Amelda stories. Actually, for me it's a reappearing theme that somehow works its way into my Kaiba stories, along with chess. Recently I've become fixated on the DOOM warriors as a result of reading some awesome writing – check out "Empty Bottles" and stories by LuckyLadybug. I'm also a fan of Varon/Mai, since I just can't stand Joey. Oh yes, the rating is upped for suggestive stuff and violence, now and later.

o - o - o - o -

At the sound of his name, the youth turned towards him, eyes widening in recognition. For a moment the world narrowed down to only him, and Amelda couldn't breath. Couldn't react, could only stare at him with numb disbelief, and then the emotions washed over him, so strongly he almost gasped.

"_Miruko_," he whispered again, feeling as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, leaning into the wind. _He was _alive_…_

But rather than stepping forward when Amelda unknowingly raised his hand to reach out to him, the teenager took a step back. Those beautiful grey eyes had been stricken with shock, wide and vulnerable, but now they narrowed and became icy, filled with some emotion that Amelda couldn't recognize, didn't understand.

"_You_," he said in such a vehement tone that even Kaiba reacted, rising to stand tall and tense besides Amelda.

"I've found you, you're _here_…" In his mind he saw Miruko, smiling up at him with trust, a naïve and absolute faith that his older brother could hold their world together, even if everything was being destroyed around them. Amelda had promised never to leave him alone, when he'd taken a bullet once and lay there bleeding, trying to reassure him that he wouldn't die, not when Miruko still needed him. Yet while death froze memories at that last moment, life meant that things continued changing.

Somehow, even when Kaiba had told him, he had not been able to imagine it—that Miruko would be older, achingly familiar, and yet the child that Amelda remembered him as was gone.

Miruko was no longer looking at him, but past him, at Kaiba. He took in the expensive white trenchcoat, the KaibaCorp insignia on the lapel, the aura of authority that the young brunette had about him that spoke volumes about his confidence in his power. Amelda knew the exact moment when Miruko realized who it was that had brought him here.

"I hate you," he hissed at Amelda, violently struggling to free himself from his two captors, who had no choice but to release him. "I should've known you'd have ended up with _him_!"

"It's not like that—" It was too impossible to explain, too unbelievable to know that Miruko was here and yet nothing was right. There was an ugly expression of hate on Miruko's face and for one confused moment Amelda wondered if he'd looked that way when he had dueled Kaiba, when he had wanted to crash the plane in a murder-suicide attempt. There was nothing he could say; the turmoil of the situation overwhelmed him.

"You betrayed me!" He looked at Kaiba. "And now you're twice the betrayer!"

"No, Miruko, I—listen to me—"

"No, _you _listen to _me_." He saw the small thing clutched in Amelda's hand then, and all his rage boiled over. In a blur of speed he had grabbed a chair and swung it with incredible force at the glass wall, again and again. Such was the force of his anger that all of a sudden the glass shattered with a harsh musical rain of shards.

"You want to know what you meant to me, Amelda?" Miruko challenged him. "You want to know what I think about the stupid dreams you fed me, the trust I had in you?" He grabbed Amelda's wrist and wrenched the charred toy figurine from his grasp. "This is what I think of it!"

He seemed to see it so slowly, so perfectly clear. Miruko's arm drawing back, the throw as precise as any athlete's, the small piece of melted, burned plastic hurled outside, arching up, up, up — and then it was falling, lost in a thousand feet of empty air. He'd cherished it for so long, built his life around his memories of his brother and the war that had destroyed their world. And even as Miruko's scathing words told the story, Amelda remembered…

"_Go with these men, Miruko. You'll be safe," he said even as he helped Miruko into the waiting arms of the man in the tank. _

"_But what about you, big brother?" The hand seemed so small and cold in his own, and Miruko grasped tightly, afraid to let go even though he was being pulled away._

"_I'll find you again," he promised. He'd turned around to go save the other children they had lived temporarily with – the orphans that he'd taken in, become the leader for because he was just a few years older, ten to their seven and eight year olds. _

_But he hadn't taken more than a few steps when a loud explosion behind him threw him to the ground with its violence. He looked back, sudden fear in his heart, and saw the tank enveloped in fire. The orange and red flames burned so brightly, flickering, hungrily reaching up towards the sky, the heat so intense…_

"_NO! MIRUKO! No, no…" His brother's life was extinguished, just like that. In a space of a few heartbeats, the laughing, crying child that he loved was gone, while he watched helplessly. And he might as well as have killed Miruko himself. _

"I hate you, I HATE YOU!" At the cry of rage, Amelda was brought back to the present with a painful jolt, and he could no longer see the face of the child that was his brother. The teenager that stood before him now was a stranger, wasn't real, could not really be Miruko…but he _was_. It was all wrong, but it was all true.

"I'm so sorry—" the words he'd cried to heaven's deaf ears for so many years came spilling out, so low, so softly that only Kaiba, standing next to him, could have heard it. There was no way that the sound could have carried over to the youth, but he sensed it anyway.

"I don't need your apologies. I don't need you at all anymore, Amelda!" Miruko's voice seemed to waver for a moment, betraying his youth, but when he continued it was steady and filled with bitterness. "I've found another family now, and they've given me everything I want. What, are you shocked? The gang was the best thing that could have happened to me, after I was released. Didn't you ever wonder?"

"I thought you were dead," Amelda whispered.

"I spent a year in prison and then I was turned out into the world with absolutely nothing. You know what happens to young, vulnerable children on the streets, Amelda? What, you can't imagine your own brother being used, being controlled by older people who rented us out like toys?" Miruko's eyes glittered with tears and with hate, yet he kept them fixed on Amelda. "There are people in this world that would pay well for their fantasies to be fulfilled, and Madame Rouge had extensive contacts. Big names, people that wanted discretion. People like Gozaburo Kaiba."

Besides Amelda, Kaiba seemed to have stopped breathing, so motionless it was as if he wanted to disappear. Amelda was about to look at him to see what was wrong. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw the brunette shudder and with painful clarity he guessed the reason why. But the two employees were still in the room, and Kaiba would never allow himself to show weakness in front of others.

Miruko watched them avidly, gauging their reaction. So bitter, so hateful, wanting to hurt them as much as he could. He was so young, but there was nothing childish or innocent about him. He used his words as effectively as blows, slashing carefully with the intent to maximize the damage.

"I would have killed myself, but if there's anything that the war taught me, it was how to survive. Even if you become less than human. Even if you become just a desperate, powerless animal. Do you know that even if you forget why you're living, your body still survives, still carries on without meaning? I lasted for a year, but I couldn't fight forever. I jumped off a bridge. But maybe it was fate, or luck, but I didn't die like I was supposed to, and the gang that found me ironically accepted me because of it. Like it was a test, like I was daring life – what they saw as the biggest risk of all. They never realized that I did it because I had nothing to lose."

_I've failed you, Miruko. _He had been there all along, alive, but Amelda had given up too soon. If only he had searched a little longer, if only he had not been so certain the tank that blew up was the one that his brother had disappeared into…if only he had a little stronger faith, believed, trusted… The words were in his throat, but he could not say them, useless as they were. _I'm so sorry. I loved you so much. I tried to hate Kaiba, to blame him, but all along I knew it was my fault, that _I _had killed you. I failed to protect you as I should have. _

"So, _brother_, I've told you my story. Don't cry for me, Amelda. I am what I've become, when you saved yourself long ago and forgot about me. Come on now, what have _you _done these past few years? Enjoying life? Ever spared a thought for me?" Miruko stared at him, his eyes wild, mocking. His arm was bleeding; he must have hurt himself because the blood tricked down over his clenched fist.

Somehow Kaiba's employees had snapped out of their shock. The two uniformed workers grabbed him by the arms as he began to turn. Miruko struggled madly in their grasp and broke free for a moment. Then the anger was abruptly gone, the emotions locked away behind blank eyes. He looked calm, controlled. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and drew out a gun, aiming it at Amelda expertly.

"Don't move," he warned as he slowly backed towards the door. One of the two employees seemed to tense, as if for a sudden lunge, but the click of the trigger froze him. The sound seemed unnaturally loud as all eyes were fixed on him.

_Ever spared a thought for me? _If only Miruko knew how he'd based his entire life around his brother. He'd been so idealistic, not so much as Raphael, no, but he'd still believed. Amelda had still put his faith into DOOM, given it to Dartz because he had dreamed the dream—to end the violence, to erase war from the world. Oh, he had wanted revenge against Seto Kaiba, but part of it was still his fool's hope that he could prevent anything like what he'd experienced from ever happening again. To spare all the children that would come after him from the same kind of horror.

Amelda looked at Kaiba briefly, despite the gun still pointed at him, and he knew that the only reason why he had hated him was because he hated himself. They were so similar, but…_the difference between you and me is that I would do anything to save my brother. I would never let him die. I would never fail him._

Kaiba's words to him during that airborne, insanely risky duel had been too true. Even when he'd felt the pain of having his soul torn from his body, he'd known he wouldn't be able to forget them, or the expression on Mokuba's face, or the numbing realization that he'd directed all his anger and hate towards Seto Kaiba, when it should have been for himself.

If only Miruko knew…but Amelda could only gaze at him numbly, the gun between them, held steadily. He had joined Dartz to end it, but now Miruko was here before his eyes, and he'd already become part of the violence, the ugliness of the world. Because to survive in that vicious cycle, you had to become part of it.

Miruko stopped before the door and shifted the gun to his right hand so that he could reach behind him and twist the doorknob. One of the employees took the opportunity to take a few steps forward, and he raised the gun and fired a warning shot into the air, hitting the beautiful marble chess set decorating Kaiba's desk.

Amelda stared at the broken chess pieces, taken back into another time, another game. He was teaching Miruko how to play, trying to explain the complexities of the game to the younger child when it was almost impossible to even tell the pieces apart from each other. The biggest bullet was the queen, the one that was copper-plated was a bishop, but the rest all looked alike. One of the pawns was the bullet that had been taken out of one of the other children, wounded on a food run.

Miruko looked at him and suddenly he tossed something towards him. Amelda raised one hand instinctively to shield himself, but the thing that fell to the floor besides his feet was harmless. It was a necklace, made of cheap quality metal so that the silvery color had worn away to a dull grey. The locket fell open to reveal the picture of a woman. It was their mother, and Amelda had given it to Miruko when she had first died and he had had to explain why she would never be coming back.

"Don't try to find me again," Miruko said matter-of-factly. He stood in the doorway and there were a few screams at the sight of the gun in his hand. "I'm not the innocent child you remember. You're nothing to me, Amelda. You ceased to be long ago, from the moment when you gave me up to the soldiers in the tank."

He looked around at the stunned people and smiled dangerously. "Kaiba, call your dogs off. You know I won't hesitate to shoot."

"Let him go," Kaiba ordered, but everything was out of his control anyway. Miruko turned to him and Amelda, assessing the two of them with a look before he was gone.

It was like a nightmare, with the only difference being that it was all reality.

o - o - o - o -

Notes: Revised somewhat when I watched the air duel between Kaiba and Amelda again and realized my information on the necklace was wrong. Anyway, please review! It's true that everyone updates faster when there's encouragement!


	5. Hell is for good intentions

Hell is for good intentions

By ElveNDestiNy, written March 25, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: This story begins some time after DOOM arc, and there's a full year between Ch. 1 and Ch. 2. Amelda's about 19 or 20, around the same age as Kaiba, and Miruko is 16 in this story. Amelda and Miruko were separated "almost ten years ago," so Miruko would have been six, and Amelda ten. I've kept things consistent, so hopefully ages are too unrealistic. Also, abuse, war, etc. has a way of stealing innocence, so keep in mind that biological age isn't everything.

o - o - o - o -

From the moment that Miruko left, it was all chaos. KaibaCorp Security belatedly came running into the room, guns drawn, quailing under the icy glare they received from Kaiba. Someone screamed, which set off various other cries, ostensibly more from the presence of the security guards' guns than from Miruko's escape, which most people hadn't even seen.

"Quiet!" Kaiba said, raising his voice just a little. It was a measure of his absolute authority that, miraculously, people obeyed. After all, Kaiba thought contemptuously, the fact that he had been younger than every single employee when he had first taken over the company, and yet had managed to efficiently exert control, said _something_ about his persona.

He glanced back at his office, where he could just barely see Amelda still standing. Even from this distance the expression in those grey eyes glassy with shock was compelling.

Telling himself that his company needed him more right now, and that he was _not _being a coward for not wanting to go back there and face Amelda's no doubt emotional state, Kaiba deliberately turned away from his office.

"Go back to work!" He called Security over, and after some dire threats and questions – why didn't Miruko's gun set off alarms when he entered the building, why had they been so slow being alerted to a possibly dangerous situation – he sent them back with the reassuring promise that half of them would be fired tomorrow. Let them sweat it out for a bit; he'd conduct a formal employee review session soon and get rid of the lowest fourth.

When he finally had nothing left to do and the building was humming with activity almost as usual, Kaiba suppressed a small sigh and strode back to his office. He needn't have worried. Amelda was just as he had left him, standing motionless without any hint of an expression on his face.

Truth to tell, Kaiba hadn't expected anything different from him. He wasn't the kind of person that could ever bring himself to cry in front of other people, no matter how great the heartbreak.

Yugi and his little group, despite their constant despicable rants about _friendship_, probably wouldn't have understood. In fact, they would have taken Amelda's emotionless countenance as proof that he was heartless. But Kaiba thought he felt it from him, the pain, almost as if it were hovering in the room around Amelda, a tangible ghost.

"I don't have time for this," Kaiba said flatly. It came out little harsher than he had intended. But then, it always did. "Come on with me."

He realized why it sounded so familiar even as he walked to the elevator and heard the small bell sound that signified its arrival. Amelda walked in wordlessly, with only a soft rustle from his trenchcoat. Kaiba followed, and they stood in silence during the long ride down.

It sounded so familiar because it was exactly what he had said to Amelda when he brought him to KaibaCorp, to see his brother. Looking back on it, Kaiba wasn't sure _what _he had been thinking, or what exactly he had expected. A tearful reunion? A happy sort of ending after ten years of despair?

He wasn't even sure why he had done it. Certainly, Amelda would never say, 'Thank you, Kaiba, I'm sorry for all times I challenged you to a duel and tried to avenge my brother.' It would be ridiculous even if it something like that did happen.

Amelda had ridden his motorcycle to KaibaCorp, and as they went underground to the parking lots, he stopped by it. Kaiba kept on walking. For the first time, there was a little bit of expression on his face, and Kaiba was absurdly glad to see it. But all he said was, "I'm taking you home."

He was a little disappointed when Amelda neither argued nor questioned what exactly was 'home.' Kaiba arranged for the motorcycle to be brought along as well, and then they got into his stylish silver sports coupe. He chose to drive.

Halfway there, Amelda must have realized that he wasn't being taken to the house he shared with his two biker companions, but he made no protest. With nothing but silence during the drive home, Kaiba couldn't help ruminating over his disastrous actions.

He didn't know what to do with him. He'd had Miruko brought here as soon as he had learned that he was alive, he'd thought that there would be some sort of exchange of love, reaffirmation of family. Not this. Not like this, with Miruko poised on the edge of raw violence, everything about the troubled youth speaking of borderline volatile passions.

Not his words to his brother, who had spent his lifetime waiting to avenge him, whose brother in his mind was still the innocent child that he had been when they had been separated…

There was nothing to do but take him home. Kaiba didn't think that it would be right to return him to his house, with Raphael and Varon, whose concern for their friend would be justified. But Amelda didn't look like he could take much more right now.

Though _home_ also meant Mokuba, and who knew what Amelda would think of his own brother? Kaiba didn't sympathize with people, but in this case, it was too easy to imagine. If it had been Mokuba…he couldn't imagine how he might handle it. And in some ways, it was his fault that it had turned out like this.

Oh, granted, he'd meant well. He had no idea that Miruko would react like that, or that the child that Amelda couldn't seem to forget would have grown up to be an angry, gun-carrying teenager rebelling at the hard life he'd been given. Kaiba had brought them together in his office with what most people would call pretty good intentions. It just hadn't worked out the way it was supposed to.

o - o - o - o -

He was woken halfway through the night by a hoarse cry so heartrending he sat bolt upright, heart pounding in fear. The computer screen before him had blurred after many fruitless hours of trying to implement a new program; the code had too many errors and he was frustrated with himself beyond belief. There was nothing worse than flawed reasoning.

Despite the urgency, he ducked in to check with Mokuba, finding that he was still sleeping peacefully. He ran towards the room he'd temporarily given to Amelda, although the enormous house was quiet after that first scream.

The door was slightly ajar and he stood right outside, reluctant to go in after he had ascertained that nothing truly dangerous was taking place. Amelda was obviously caught in the grip of some nightmare.

He had planned to go in, to say wake him something—what, he didn't know, but something at least. But it would have been wrong, now, to have him deal with this as well. They weren't friends, after all. They were nothing more than strangers, who happened to be at the same place, at the same time…like two trains heading towards the site of a wreck.

It took a moment before Kaiba realized that Amelda was awake, and he was staring at him. If there was embarrassment, the dark hid any sign of color in his cheeks. All Kaiba could see of him was the faint outline of his form. Amelda probably could see even less of him, hidden behind the door.

He opened it so that he stood in the doorway fully. The room was dark, but he could make out Amelda's harsh breathing that shook his frame, probably aftereffects of whatever he had dreamed.

"I thought—he was dying right before my eyes and I couldn't—I didn't save him," he said, as if trying to explain, clearly at a loss.

Normally Kaiba would have left. Emotional scenes annoyed him, and that plus the fact that Amelda was nothing to him – should have prompted him to ignore the other duelist just like he ignored the rest of the world. But for some reason he felt obliged to do more.

"It'll be all right," he lied helplessly. He couldn't see how it could be.

o - o - o - o -

Mokuba was the one who got impatient in the morning, waiting for Amelda to show up. Seto finally told him to go check, wondering if perhaps the redhead had merely overslept. He would want to go back to his friends, who after all were probably very worried. Or maybe not, since they seemed like an independent lot. For all he knew, they might find nothing wrong at all with Amelda not coming in for the night.

"Seto? He's not here!" Mokuba bounded down the stairs, almost crashing into his brother, who was standing at the bottom.

His first thought was, _of course_. But just to be sure, he checked himself. There was no sign of Amelda, or indeed, that Amelda had ever been here. They walked to the garage, and Amelda's departure was confirmed with the disappearance of the red motorcycle.

Mokuba looked up at him, questions and worry in his slate-blue eyes. "Is he going to be all right?" He'd always been more caring of Amelda than anyone else, even as far back as the airborne duel. Perhaps whatever reasons that made him love Seto so much also carried over to Amelda.

"Don't worry, Mokuba. He can take care of himself. Go eat your breakfast. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?"

Kaiba told himself that he was overreacting, that Amelda was probably just returning home, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. "I'm just checking up on something."

o - o - o - o -

Notes: Some **really good **stuff coming up, and everything's planned out. Still working on the re-write for this chapter, but I wanted to get some of the typos out of the way. This story will have a total of 10 chapters andthe good news is that I've got them all planned out!Anyway, pleasereview!


	6. Racing to stop time

Racing to stop time

By ElveNDestiNy, written April 24, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Believe it or not, I researched gangs for this, and I've also been in areas like the ones I describe here. Even so, a good deal of it is completely from my own imagination. I'm sorry if I misrepresent any details of gang life, but (unless you happen to be in a gang…in that case, I can't imagine you reading this) you probably can't tell, and this is fiction anyway. Enjoy!

o - o - o - o -

He woke early, though he wasn't sure if he had ever been truly asleep. Certainly, he felt more tired now than he had before he closed his eyes. Over and over he saw Miruko, heard his words in the confusion of his mind, and only now did he comprehend what he'd barely understood the first time they were thrown at him.

Amelda left the house quietly, well versed in security systems, even those as high tech as the one employed in the Kaiba mansion. At least Kaiba had obligingly brought his motorcycle along, so he wouldn't lack for transportation. He set out for what he thought of home now, the house that he shared with Varon and Raphael, but halfway there he thought of what questions might be waiting for him.

It wasn't exactly that he was afraid of confronting them, but it was just that no one had ever cared before. Amelda didn't know why, but they were like brothers to him, and he knew they would do anything they could to help him. It filled him with a certain sense of awe but still left him confused.

At the same time, it wouldn't be right to involve them in this. This was between Miruko and himself, and possibly one other. Gozaburo Kaiba had torn them apart, but his adopted son had brought them together again, and Amelda no longer spent energy futilely trying to understand Seto Kaiba's part in all this.

From what Miruko had said, Amelda doubted that he was living in a good part of the city. He didn't know much about gangs—actual street gangs, that is, not specialized organizations like DOOM had been—but he was willing to bet that he could at least find the right area. That was good.

Because despite what Miruko had said, despite all of the anger between them, Amelda wasn't willing to let it rest like that. He couldn't just forget Miruko as if he never found out that his little brother was still alive. Judging by the gun Miruko had drawn, he was involved in something dangerous.

He couldn't get the image out of his mind—his brother's face, filled with anger, hurt, fear, and pain as those grey eyes stared accusingly at him. Even in Miruko's bitterness, his anger, Amelda still saw a hint of the child he had been. So he would save his brother from himself, whether Miruko wanted to be saved or not.

His mind made up, Amelda made a tight turn and sped to the worse part of town he could think of. He combed the streets for a good while, looking at the neon graffiti scrawled on the walls of abandoned warehouses. It was art of a sort, symbolic though few recognized it. Amelda doubted they understood what it represented, though, even the people who made them. It was far more than territory and the odd loyalty of desperation that held these gangs together.

This had once been the industrial part of Domino, long before, but now the poorest people lived here and the area was rife with violence. Here, shadowy figures approached you on street corners, looking to sell you drugs that were as good as poison. It represented, Amelda thought silently to himself, everything that was wrong in society. But few city people ever came here, and most never would see this example of human misery, or understand why every week another shooting exchange between rival gangs would break out and leave innocents dead.

He checked the narrow, dark alleyways, too, and it didn't take long before he spotted two figures at the end of one. On his motorcycle, he would have had little to fear against these youths on foot, but it was their struggling captive that had Amelda furious. Their clothes made it impossible not to realize their affiliation; a large tattoo of a snake circled around their right arms and they dressed 'to the left.'

Stepping his foot on the gas, Amelda pulled up right next to them before they realized he was there. The taller blonde one momentarily stopped his abuse of Miruko, but dark sunglasses hid his eyes from Amelda's furious grey glare.

"You're in Black Cobra territory," said the other in a menacing tone, who was dressed completely in black and aiming a gun at Miruko. "Stay out of this."

"Get out if you know what's good for you," Miruko hissed at Amelda, holding very still. "You don't want to be part of this." Under the light of the sun he looked so much younger, almost more vulnerable because of the way he was dressed, not less. Despite his brave words, Amelda could hear the fear in his brother's voice. He grieved for a brief moment as he looked at the picture they made from an outsider's perspective. Three youths, none older than perhaps twenty, but so familiar with violence that guns were an everyday part of their lives.

Amelda swung off his red motorcycle and stood facing them. "That's my brother you're holding," he snarled at the Black Cobra gang members. "What do you want with him?"

"There's a little thing called blood vengeance," the one in black said coldly. Contrary to Amelda's expectations, he sounded educated, with almost the same air as British people seemed to cultivate. "Skinner, hold him." His hulking partner smirked and stepped up close to Amelda, forcing him to give ground and back away.

"Your bro didn't tell ya that two days ago someone from Bloods tried t'kill King Cobra, did he?" His voice was guttural and low, meant to intimidating, but Amelda barely understood what he was saying anyway. "Stay outta this, 'less you want to join him. You don't belong here, rich boy like you."

He drew his fist back to punch Miruko, who cursed and broke free just fast enough to whip out the gun that he had used in Kaiba's office from wherever it was hiding.

There was a moment when shocked realization flashed through Amelda's mind and he tried to reach out towards his brother, screaming, "NO, Miruko, don't do it!" But he had barely finished his cry before Miruko fired without hesitation, the blast of noise almost deafening to Amelda's ears.

Suddenly there was blood splattered over the cobra tattoo and a short, sharp cry of pain from Skinner, the blonde. His partner's eyes flashed with rage as he raised his gun towards Miruko, but Amelda sprang into action and leapt.

He managed to at least knock the gun to the floor, but fell hard, and Skinner had recovered enough to kick him hard in the stomach. Amelda gasped in pain and instinctively curled into a ball, but forced himself to get up when he heard Miruko's childish scream, saw a gun flung away from the group, skittering across the floor.

The next few seconds passed in a confused blur as Amelda heard an ear-piercing whistle and the sound of a motor coming towards them. Backup, but for which gang? Miruko was down, but he couldn't tell if his brother had been shot, and the blonde was pummeling him with kicks. Amelda couldn't see where the other Cobra was, the one in black.

All rational thought gone, Amelda grabbed Skinner's arm and flung his left arm around his opponent's thick neck, trying to cut off his air supply. If he had been wiser, he would have realized that he was outweighed by at least a good eighty pounds, but as it was, he grimly hung on to his death choke even as the blonde went mad. One flailing hand caught Amelda in the eye and his head burst with pain. Something wet was smeared across his cheek; the sweet, coppery smell told him that it was blood. His grip loosened involuntarily and Amelda was hurled to the ground, falling hard on his back.

The ground was rumbling—no, it was vibrating—and Amelda recognized the sound very well. Bikers, then. A gang of motorcycles all in the black and gold colors of the Cobra gang approached. Miruko's gun had been taken but the youth was on his feet, savagely fighting the blonde and executing brutal, effective moves that Amelda had never seen anyone do before. The blonde's hoarse cry was cut off abruptly when a small but hard fist slammed into his throat.

Five, there were _five_ bikers surrounding them. Amelda regained his feet painfully, knowing that he must have at least fractured a rib or more in his fall. He was bent over in a half crouch, partly because he was wary, but also partly because he wasn't sure what would happen if he tried to stand up straight.

"Hold him still, Skinner," the came the voice from the leader of the newcomers. His face was hidden behind a gleaming black helmet. Besides him was the gangster in black from before. The blonde stopped pounding on Miruko with his good arm and looked up. He was pale, probably from the loss of blood, but the crazed look in his eyes remained.

Amelda was standing but frozen, knowing that they were hopelessly outnumbered. Miruko, released from Skinner's hold, crumpled to a heap at the gangster's feet.

"You, there!" Amelda didn't dare answer, but evidently it wasn't required of him. "Go stand over by that wall. Move slowly. I want to see your hands!"

He walked towards the entrance of the alley, about a good hundred feet away from Miruko. Every step felt like he was betraying his brother again, leaving him there with people that would kill him. Eventually, when he stopped, Amelda found that he was across the street from his motorcycle. He stared at it and wondered if he could reach it, but another one of the bikers had dismounted. The biker followed him on foot and was now casually pointing a gun in his direction.

"What happened here?" the leader demanded. Every word came clearly to Amelda, despite the distance. Maybe fear sharpened your hearing, he thought dizzily.

"This one—" Skinner pointed to Miruko, hand trembling unsteadily, "shot me! We were teachin' him a lesson when his bro here showed up. I saw him when he shot at you before, the redhead. He's damned distinctive, King."

Black gloved hands reached up to pull off the helmet, exposing the face of a man that did not look like he was part of a gang, let alone the leader. He was young, perhaps twenty-three or slightly older, but twenty-five at most. Even from the distance, Amelda could see that the man's brown hair was cut in a respectable fashion. In fact, the leader could have passed for a businessman's son, even dressed in black leather as he was. Amelda stared at him in numb disbelief. He must be one of the black market gangs, supplied with money by blackmailing important people and intimidating them with his cronies.

White, even teeth flashed in a feral smile. "Is that so, Skinner? Well, even someone as brainless as you are can be right for once. I do believe we need to make an example of this pathetic little thing. The Black Cobras rule here, not the Bloods."

The sound of another motorcycle speeding into the alley was enough to distract him. Amelda looked to the entrance of the alley as well, thinking that maybe it was Miruko's gang. It was all confused in his mind; he had no experience with this kind of life and could not possibly predict what would happen now.

The newcomer rode a silver motorcycle that screamed wealth and style. A long trench coat flowed out behind him, where he was crouched over the handlebars. _Kaiba!_ What was he doing here, of all places? Had he followed Amelda here, and _why_—but there was no time for thought, and Amelda only felt a surge of profound relief that this horrific situation could be put into Kaiba's calm and no doubt capable hands. He hadn't balked when Miruko had drawn the gun in his office. Even now, he looked in control.

Amelda forgot the most important thing, however. Kaiba might have been influential in many areas, but he was just as out of his domain here as Amelda was himself. The Cobra king sneered at the coming motorcycle and his hand disappeared into the front of his glistening black leather jacket before reappearing with a sleek black thing—a gun.

Amelda had only a moment to realize what the man was going to do before utter fear overtook anything else. The man that had been assigned to watch him was looking at King and he took advantage of the momentary lapse. He ran across the street to his motorcycle and threw himself onto it, hearing the curse behind him as the man realized his quarry had slipped away.

Shots ricocheted loudly off the walls but Amelda was in his element, master of movement now as he stepped hard on the gas and wove dangerously towards King and Miruko, leaning hard left and right to make himself a harder target. A little too much and he would be killed in a crash in a matter of seconds, if he lost control of the sharp angle between himself and the ground. The sound of his desperate race was echoed and he looked through strands of his own magenta locks to see one of King's cronies racing directly towards him from the opposite direction.

For a moment Amelda was lost in memory, remembering another place, another time. Raphael stood watching in disapproval and disbelief. He had met Varon for the first time like this—it was called chicken, a common game for bikers. Varon had insulted him and then challenged him this, a test of sorts.

They reached deadly speeds over eighty miles per hour as they raced towards each other in a deliberate head-on collision course. Amelda remembered the frantic beating of his heart, like a bird trapped in a cage, as the speck that was Varon grew larger in a matter of seconds. Remembered the adrenaline rushing through the blood, as you wondered if he would stop, wondering if _you _could stop in time, or if you would kill each other over something so stupid, just a bluff. That's all it was, a bluff, a _game_, but the ultimate thrill because the stakes were life and death.

But it wasn't a game now, and Amelda wasn't numb with fear for his own safety, but for Miruko's, because his brother was about to be shot and he wasn't sure if he could make it there in time to save him. So close, so close—another breath and he would be there, he had to stop at the right time so he would block Miruko, but the other motorcycle was gaining speed…Amelda couldn't let the other biker to reach Miruko before he did, or else he wouldn't be able to block King's bullet—

They reached Miruko at the same instant. Amelda had the impression of his brother's face and wide grey eyes, or maybe it was just a memory of earlier times, because the world exploded around him. The gunshot blasting so loudly he felt as if his heart stopped with fear, the motorcycle spinning out of control to crash to the left, but _in front of Miruko_, blocking him from harm…and Amelda thrown from the seat, feeling the sudden, blinding pain ripping through his chest—his mouth opened in a surprised cry.

But it was enough and he'd taken the bullet for Miruko, so Amelda's scream was one of triumph, not agony…because he had understood that he'd saved his brother.

o - o - o - o -

A/N: **Review** here—after all my hard work, **p****lease**? Or fine, go read the next chapter and just ignore the annoying little author's notes here asking you to give some feedback...


	7. This is how much I love you

This is how much I love you

By ElveNDestiNy, written June 25, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: This story alternates between Kaiba and Amelda's perspective and this is back to Kaiba again. It's hard to write it that way and it's my first story using this…technique, but I like to the interplay between the two. Amelda's appearance is the American version—in other words, his hair is more like a really dark magenta rather than red. Sorry for the long wait, enjoy!

- o - o - o - o -

Later, Kaiba could never quite remember all the details of what exactly happened after he'd witnessed one of the most awful things he'd ever seen in his life. He recalled the bright red splatter of blood and the echoing blast of sound from the gun, so much louder than is ever expected. A man's thoughts change drastically when he's the one facing the wrong end of a gun. Things pass through his mind like lightning—loved ones, hated enemies, a blur of memory, fear, and last of all, pure survival instinct.

He'd always wondered at that particular liquid look in an animal's eyes right before its predator strikes. Is it some sort of realization that life would end in a few moments? Is it just overwhelming fear? Kaiba had never experienced it for himself and had never thought he would.

Oddly enough, the thought on the surface of his mind as he saw King's arm swing towards him, glistening sinister black, was that at least he'd had the sense to call the police. Beyond that, he wasn't sure what prompted him to act as he did in what felt like the next eternity.

Kaiba revved up his bike, put his foot to the pedal, and charged right at King, rather than wheeling away as any other sensible person might have done. He never even consciously decided it. He just did it.

It was probably the only thing that could have saved him. King jerked back, fingers convulsing on the gun, which went off at an angle since it was pointed towards the sky. Kaiba succeeded in driving into him and knocking him over with all the force of the motorcycle. King yelled out something and fired again, still missing.

Then, instead of running the hell away from there, for some reason Kaiba ran straight to the wreck of Amelda, Miruko, and the Cobra biker. He didn't even have the faintest idea of what he was going to try to do, and he half stumbled, half collapsed to his knees besides the pile of twisted metal that was all that was left of the two motorcycles.

He had a glimpse of Amelda's face, pale white with spots of blood as red as his hair. The gaping red hole in his chest seemed too unreal, as was the prone form of Miruko next to his brother. A sound from behind him warned him that someone was approaching and Kaiba twisted around to see King, apparently not seriously injured, walking to them, gun trained on the him. You might escape death once, but never twice. Kaiba for one moment completely believed that he was going to end his life here in this dingy little street alley, killed by a bullet, lying next to his former would-be killer. He felt lightheaded, hallucinating. Surely that was why he saw swirling lights entering the street like confused ghosts. It took a long time for him to realize that the buzzing in his ears was something more—sirens.

The police arrived, too late—though Kaiba was hardly about to complain—and they somehow in the midst of the chaos managed to arrest all the right people, who were taken away in patrol cars.

Kaiba felt a surge of anger when he saw the uniformed officers; if they could arrive so quickly now, why couldn't they have been here a few minutes earlier? It would have made a world of difference. But it would have as well, if the police had came a few minutes later.

They tried to take Miruko too, astonishingly unharmed but for bruises, scrapes, and cuts. His right eye was rapidly darkening purple and was puffed up. Kaiba didn't know quite how he did it, but he managed to keep Amelda's brother from joining the gang members in prison. He couldn't even remember how exactly he'd smooth-talked the situation over…it had to be all those years of business and glib replies. Giving people what they wanted to hear, but not quite lying, either. It helped that Miruko was still a minor and just a kid, after all. Those light grey eyes were painfully innocent and raw with emotion when they were gazing down at his older brother.

Amelda. The blood soaked into the sidewalk quickly, leaving only spreading red stains. Staring at it, only one thought kept on repeating in Kaiba's mind over and over again—the dark red almost perfectly matched Amelda's hair. Kaiba knew that he should call Raphael and Varon—their phone number was recorded in his cell phone from earlier—but somehow he was too shocked to do it. Or maybe he was just at a loss as to how to break something like this to them. 'Come quick, Amelda's dead or dying…'

The ambulance came in after what seemed like an eternity and Kaiba watched Miruko collapse next to Amelda, not crying. Too shocked for it, no doubt, too filled with disbelief. Maybe the boy had never seen the true effects of that gun that he'd carried and used with such easy familiarity and confidence. Kaiba stood over their crumpled figures like some guardian angel, feeling helpless again for the first time since he had been a child placed in the care of Gozaburo.

He bullied the medical staff into letting both Miruko and himself into the ambulance, even though he wasn't sure why he even bothered. He knew that the medical personnel had good reasons not to let family into the ambulance; they were distraught and could do more damage, however unintentionally. Even so, Kaiba pretended that he was Amelda's brother, and Miruko didn't say otherwise. The nurses knew who he was, and knew who he wasn't, but they didn't dare protest when he entered the small ambulance after Amelda's stretcher had been rolled in.

Standing by the side of the emergency stretcher and looking down, Kaiba thought that Amelda looked like he was already dead; he had been knocked unconscious by the crash and he'd taken a shot close to his heart. There seemed too much blood, like there shouldn't be so much blood from one body, and the quantity of that red fluid, the stuff of life, affected him deep down in ways that Kaiba had never admitted. He'd seen his own blood in a red pool like that before, had done it intentionally. What a fool he'd been, not to realize what he was doing.

He'd never understood how in any given moment, somewhere in the world someone was thinking of ending their life, and someone was doing every single thing they could to prolong their life. It was so bizarre. People closest to death struggled so hard to live those last few hours, and other people just gave it all away.

The ride there was frighteningly surreal. Miruko was pale and quiet, and Kaiba alternately admired his nerves and hated him for caring so little about his brother who had sacrificed so much for his sake. He finally called Raphael and Varon, hitting a lot of wrong numbers before his hands steadied enough to use the small cell phone. He only gave them terse instructions to go to the hospital, not explaining that Amelda might be dead before they arrived there, or that the doctors were grim because he had lost so much blood. For once he wished he were less blunt in stating the awful news, but he didn't know how to be otherwise. Not for a situation like this.

The rest was just standard procedure, and Kaiba watched with a kind of numb disbelief as Amelda was taken away to the emergency room, and then to God-knows-where, because they kept everyone out. It was better that a doctor didn't come for him and Miruko; that would mean that Amelda was dying or dead, and that they could go say goodbye.

He and Miruko sank into the battered chairs in the waiting room and Kaiba sat there and looked at the blue cloth, wondering how many tears they had absorbed over the years. The room had the right sort of atmosphere, the kind of tense waiting, like the intensive care unit…the feeling that any moment now, your worst nightmare might come true. Every time the door opened and someone went in or out, Kaiba's heart skipped a beat and he held his breath without realizing it.

He kept on thinking, Amelda's dead, he's beyond saving, you saw how he was…it was better to prepare for the worse, but Kaiba knew he wasn't being honest with himself. Underneath it all was that cursed hope. An hour passed, the seconds passing like days. There was nothing worse that this waiting. He hated it.

Varon and Raphael came and they directed their anger at Kaiba, on whom it rolled off on like raindrops rolled off an umbrella. But Varon broke soon enough and he sat in the corner of the room with his head buried in his hands, wild tufts of soft brown hair sticking out every which way through his fingers. Just because the tears were hidden didn't mean that they didn't know that they were there. Raphael sat next to Miruko, silent and solid as a rock. He was not the kind of person to break faith easily. Miruko still sat, silent and sullen, as if some of the shock had passed. But he didn't grieve, for whatever reasons of his own.

Amelda didn't look much better when they were finally allowed to go in and see him, although technically the only was with any real permission was Miruko, since visitors were limited to 'close family.' But Kaiba snarled at the doctor that Varon and Raphael were the closest thing Amelda had to a family. He didn't even realize he'd included himself in the description until later.

_He might not make it_. That was the sum of the doctor's kindly words to Kaiba. None of the others had heard; after the physician's confused jumble of an explanation Kaiba had quietly excused himself from the waiting room and followed the doctor, demanding to know what exactly the prognosis was with no nonsense thrown in.

They took turns sitting besides him through the night, but he never woke. The nurse assured them that this was normal. First Varon went in, and when Kaiba checked the room half an hour later, he opened the door a bit and heard the low murmur of a voice. He wondered what Varon was saying to the unconscious Amelda—perhaps it was all the things he could not say when Amelda was alive and well. Kaiba had no idea what the dynamics were amongst the three former DOOM warriors and he let the door slip shut again with a barely noticeable click, unwilling to disturb Varon's privacy.

The police came and took Kaiba and Miruko's statements, then threatened to take Miruko in for questioning. Kaiba intervened, and the fact that Amelda's condition was still critical seemed to soften the officers a little. Miruko wasn't off the hook yet; he'd fired the gun at the blonde gangster, after all, but any further question would be delayed at least until Amelda's condition stabilized—or until he died.

When Varon came out again, they looked at Miruko. "Your turn," Kaiba said. "Go see him."

"I don't want to." The sharp reply shocked Raphael and Varon, but not Kaiba. He looked at Miruko thoughtfully. "You go ahead," the teen, looking like a younger version of Amelda, said shortly to Raphael. "I don't care."

Miruko was the only one besides Kaiba who seemed to show no signs of worry or grief. But whereas everyone knew to some extent that Kaiba's cold façade did not reflect his true feelings, Miruko seemed truly unconcerned, even a little angry that he had to be here waiting. Raphael entered the hospital room without another word to anyone.

Kaiba thought briefly of going home to Mokuba, but then realized that he would never forgive himself if Amelda had died while he was away. He opted to call Mokuba instead, only telling him that Amelda was in the hospital with life-threatening injuries but that Mokuba should stay home. This almost escalated to a fight over the phone, as Mokuba had taken a liking to Amelda. Kaiba usually had a very high threshold when it came to patience—after all, he had to deal business with morons nearly every day. But he ended up ordering Mokuba to stay at home and then clicked his cell phone shut with a sharp snap that sounded too loud in the waiting room.

He'd been contemplating an apology—though the sort that came from him could hardly be called apologies, more like the slight admission that he may have been wrong—when Raphael came out, three hours from when he'd gone in.

"No change," he said when Varon looked up with hopeless eyes. "That could be a good thing, though," Raphael quickly added. "Remember, the doctor said he should wake up soon." It sounded awkward; in their minds they all added on _if ever_.

Kaiba got to his feet, but rather than going to the door he stalked over to Miruko, causing both Varon and Raphael to look at him with concern. They were both put on edge by Miruko's attitude in pretending that he didn't care about Amelda. After all, to them Amelda's brother was a virtual stranger and was the one that had caused all this.

Miruko hardly seemed to notice or care that his brother's two closest friends were viewing him with increasing hostility. His expression was pure defiance and he seemed not in the least bit intimidated by the famous young man towering over him. "What do you want?"

Again, Kaiba simply stood over Miruko, looking down thoughtfully. "Why won't you go see Amelda?"

"I told you, I don't want to!" The outburst seemed to be only the beginning as Miruko stood up, clenching his fists and looking dangerously as if he were about to fight Kaiba right there. "I never wanted him back in my life!"

"Are you saying you don't have the slightest bit of love for your brother?" Kaiba pressed. He was close enough to see the sheen of tears in the silver eyes that glared at him.

"That's right! Why am I here anyway? Can't he just _die _already and leave me alone?"

It was too much. Varon clenched his fists and started towards the youth, not caring that this was Amelda's beloved little brother who had dominated his friend's life for as long as he had known him. Likewise, it surprised no one when Raphael suddenly stood up from the sagging hospital chair. The only thing that was amazing was that Kaiba beat them both to it.

"_Shut up._ Shut up, you little idiot!" Kaiba grabbed Miruko's arms in a punishing grip and spun him around, hands clenching even tighter when the teen tried to escape by attempting to give his captor a blow to his stomach.

"You're coming with me right now!" He half dragged Miruko into the hall and to the door of Amelda's room. A nurse looked at them, startled, and dropped her clipboard with a crash. Kaiba's expression had her hastily looking away, pretending she hadn't seen him manhandle Miruko, who was struggling with all his might against Kaiba's unbreakable grasp.

Varon and Raphael followed but at Kaiba's look, Raphael stopped and put an arm out to halt Varon besides him. "He'll handle it," the taller duelist said. Varon looked as if he might argue but instead turned to meet Kaiba's eyes across the hall. After a moment he nodded and the two went back to the waiting room.

Kaiba shoved open the door, glad that Amelda had been put in a separate room, unlike most patients who weren't lucky enough to be acquainted with a magnate. Miruko stumbled in behind him and he all but tossed the teen into the chair next to Amelda. The brunette almost savored his anger towards Miruko; he could not remember anytime that he had cared so much about anyone other than his brother.

"Listen to me, Miruko," he hissed. "Your brother might never wake up. He might be dying right now, as I speak, and now that I know you, I think his sacrifice was worthless. He was a good person that loved his little brother so much he would do anything to revenge him, and this is how you treat him? As if he were a stranger, as if he hadn't saved your life? Do you know why he did it, Miruko? Do you?"

The fury burned from his eyes and Miruko stared with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, unable to look away. The only difference was that he faced something more terrifying than an oncoming truck—he faced Kaiba in his worst temper. Kaiba released his arms as if just realizing that he was hurting the boy and they dropped down to Miruko's sides, white finger-shaped marks on his wrists.

"He did it because he loved you enough, Miruko, even after the way you've treated him, hurt him right there in my own office. You're damned lucky that you have someone in the world that cares that much about you."

Miruko was nearly as pale as Amelda. A slap couldn't have been more effective. Kaiba gestured towards the bed. "Go on, _look_, Miruko. Is this how you repay him? By cursing him for inconveniencing your life because he's stuck in a hospital, bleeding his life away through plastic tubes, because he took the bullet meant for _you_?"

"I…" Miruko's voice cracked and he crumpled in the chair, head in his hands. Kaiba's verbal abuse was brutal, but he'd finally broken through to Miruko. He looked at the redhead, seeing Amelda pale as death in the corner of his vision. Miruko was not quite a man yet, but at the same time he not a child any longer, not by any means. Somewhere caught in between, still confused and lost, not sure who were his friends and who were only trying to hurt him.

"Why did you do it for me?" Miruko whispered, looking down at his brother. "I wasn't worth it, Amelda."

"He loved you enough to die for you." Kaiba's voice was hoarse and tired but unwontedly gentle. He stood on the other side of the bed, looking at Amelda himself. Miruko seemed to have forgotten that he was there, and Kaiba decided to give him some privacy. He walked to the door but hesitated, turning around.

"You have to live, you just _have _to." A small sob escaped Miruko and Kaiba saw a little of how he must have been as a boy during the war, clinging to his older brother for safety. No wonder Amelda had loved him so much.

The last thing he saw was Miruko crying into his arms besides the bed. "Wake up, Amelda," he whispered. "Please. Please come back to me, big brother…I'm so sorry…"

Kaiba thought for the first time since he'd found Miruko that perhaps he had done a good thing after all in reuniting the brothers, healing the damage that Gozaburo had done, whatever the outcome now. He believed with a curious sense of certainty that Amelda could not possibly die, surrounding by such loving friends and with his beloved brother by his side. Fate could not be so cruel to tear them apart again so soon after they had found each other.

Kaiba thought about Mokuba and his hand slipped into his pocket, feeling the smooth, hard shape of his cell phone. He'd left Mokuba with harsh words that his little brother hadn't deserved, but in face of death Seto had learned that pride was a high price to pay. The infamously cold, callous, and arrogant CEO stood in the white hallway of the hospital and tried to remember the last time he'd said to Mokuba that he loved him. Not since the orphanage, since Gozaburo became their stepfather.

He took the small object out and began dialing home.


	8. Confessions

Confessions 

By ElveNDestiNy, written July 26, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: I'm using the American system of law here, since I have no idea how law works in Japan. This is back to Amelda's perspective again. Also, in reply to some reviews - I do realize that this story's highly improbable, but this _is _just fanfiction, so I'm not exactly sure why you'd bring that up. This is one of my stories where I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this or how I started, except that it's too vivid in my imagination to ignore. Anyway, sorry for the long wait, enjoy!

- o - o - o - o -

He woke slowly, bit by bit, at first disoriented by all the white around him. For a moment Amelda thought that maybe he'd died. But incongruously, it was the clean, sterile smell of the place that told him where he was.

_Miruko…_ With that thought he remembered why he was here in a hospital, remembered King and his cronies, Kaiba coming in. Amelda knew better than to sit up but he tried anyway, panicked at the thought that Miruko might be dead. A moment later he'd fallen back with a gasp, lightheaded from the exertion. The room spun sickeningly and a sharp pain sliced through him.

But he barely noticed, attention focused solely on the small shape next to his arm. Miruko sat in a hard plastic chair to his side, hunched over the bed with his head in his arms, obviously having fallen asleep in that uncomfortable position.

A wave of relief swept over him, but almost immediately afterward Amelda realized it took too much effort to keep his eyes open. There were a lot of drugs in his system and it was hard even to stop himself from slipping back into sleep. He was fighting a losing battle with oblivion when he heard a click. Somewhere in his mind he realized it was the door of the room and his instincts tried to snap him awake, but his body was simply too battered.

An oddly familiar voice spoke, a little hoarse, the tone was so different from what he remembered of it. Too gentle to be Kaiba. "Wake up, Miruko." A sleepy grumble. The words were repeated and answered with a mumbled protest that sounded a lot like 'c'mon, gimme five more minutes.'

A long suffering sigh that made Amelda want to laugh. He had to be hallucinating, the CEO with a reputation worthy of the devil himself could not possibly be cajoling his brother. "Go sleep in the other room before you sprain something in that position, Miruko. I'll stay to watch over him."

More intelligible words. "Don't make me carry you there. You're significantly bigger than Mokuba, you know." Grumbles moving away. In Amelda's mind he could imagine it, Kaiba leading a half-asleep Miruko out the door. "Then again, if I can manage Amelda I'm sure I can carry you."

_What!_ He was wavering on that border between consciousness and sleep but…Amelda struggled to hear the rest. Miruko's voice, drifting in funnily, "You carried Amelda before?"

A low growl. "Well, I couldn't exactly just _leave_ him there. But if you ever tell him…"

"Mmhh, I won't." The unmistakable sound of a yawn. "Thanks, Seto."

Amelda would have been willing to pay to see the look on Kaiba's face right then. Did _anyone _other that Mokuba ever dare call him anything other than Kaiba? His mind wandered while he mused over what he'd heard.

It's funny how you never realize how much your life has been totally tangled with another's until death comes knocking and gives you a rude wake-up call.

A moment later the door opened again and the footsteps sounded familiar…but that was all Amelda remembered before he fell asleep again.

- o - o - o - o -

He lay quietly with his eyes shut, but Amelda was somewhat awake, still woozy from the painkillers. The beeping of the heart monitor was annoying but at least it confirmed that he was alive. He didn't _feel_ alive, considering that whatever they were giving him—morphine, most likely—made him feel like he was only vaguely connected to his body. All in all a blessing, though he probably couldn't take too much since the wound was close to his heart. And then he'd be in hell with pain.

"You can't take Miruko now," Kaiba's words came faintly through the door. He must have been standing just on the other side for Amelda to be able to hear. For some reason his voice was raised; it made Amelda uneasy. Kaiba was always calm.

"Look, we're willing to make some allowances since the kid's brother is in critical condition, but we can't hold off forever." The new speaker's voice was unfamiliar.

"Is this about the gun? Miruko fired in self defense."

A different voice interrupted. "No, we'll still need to clear up his gang involvement but that isn't why my partner and I are here right now. It's about his status as a minor in the eyes of the law."

"We'll talk about this later," Kaiba said in a tone that brooked no reply.

_Is he helping them take Miruko away from me?_ The speakers were both men, so it was more likely the police than whatever social services had been called in.

The sound of the door opening prompted Amelda to make the amazing effort to open his eyes. Kaiba's icy blue eyes were a lot of things, but right now Amelda hated them with a passion, considering that the color swam nauseatingly. Eyes couldn't change color, right? He could've almost sworn that the eyes that looked down at him now were a darker blue than two seconds ago.

"You're awake," his visitor stated.

"Kaiba. I never knew you were that smart."

"Well, I'll take your _fascinating _wit as a sign that you're recovering. You've a fever, though."

Against his will, Amelda's eyes fluttered shut again from sheer fatigue. Kaiba's voice continued.

"Miruko's sleeping." Some hesitation, then, "I can wake him if you want to see him."

"In case it's the last time I wake, right, Kaiba?" Amelda replied dryly. His voice sounded raspy even to his own ears and he was forced to open his eyes when Kaiba moved over to pour him some water. Amelda accepted it with ill grace, all feelings of goodwill from the morning having dissipated after what he'd just heard.

Kaiba shrugged carelessly. "They say you're weak and might still…" He somehow didn't want to say it, as if vocalizing it was some special kind of confirmation.

"Might die, Kaiba," Amelda filled in for him, much to his annoyance.

"You won't."

"You're not the one lying in a hospital bed, feeling like someone ran you over with a ten ton truck. How bad are the injuries?"

"Do you want me to go down the list for you or something?" Kaiba snapped, out of sorts at how casually the patient was talking about death.

Amelda's head throbbed painfully but he ignored it, forcing himself to concentrate on what he'd overheard earlier. It shouldn't have felt like a betrayal, but it did. Kaiba owed him nothing, had risked his own life by becoming part of his. "You're going to take Miruko away from me?"

Kaiba actually looked surprised, which only fueled Amelda's rising anger. "Amelda, you don't have to worry about that right now."

"I'm not going to let anyone take my brother away from me again. I can handle this without you, Kaiba. I've been doing that all along. Let me tell you something, the world doesn't care about you. It doesn't matter if you're the richest man in the world, or if you have some high and mighty reputation. Life goes on with or without you.

Astonishment had transmuted into a cold, emotionless mask that was the side that Kaiba usually showed the public. "I never presumed otherwise," the brunette said coolly.

"Do you think I _wanted_ you to step into my life?"

"You're going to need my help even if you won't admit it," Kaiba growled. "They want Miruko."

_And you're going to give him to them_, Amelda felt like screaming. "Or maybe you're so arrogant you think that the world can't go on without you. Why the hell do you care so much about me and mine, Kaiba? _Why?_"

He'd never seen Kaiba so furious, not even during the duels they'd gone through. Blue eyes glittered like ice and for a moment Amelda thought that the duelist had snapped. "I'm doing it because helping you is like redeeming myself," he snarled.

Dead silence while they looked at each other in shock, for two different reasons. If Amelda's head had just been a little clearer, he would have realized that Kaiba's admission was as sincere as it was inadvertent. But in his defensive frame of mind, it sounded like Kaiba was mocking him and Amelda's anger returned full force even as he sensed Kaiba regaining his control.

"Why do you bother pretending that you care? You don't have any friends, Seto Kaiba, so don't force me to take your _pity_."

Kaiba was silent for a moment, but if Amelda had been able to see his eyes from his prone position on the bed, he would have been surprised to see that his former rival's eyes were blazing with emotion. However, none of that turmoil showed in the arrogant duelist's voice, of course. "You're right. You aren't a friend; I don't know where I came up with that illusion. It takes two, after all, to find that thing called friendship."

His voice was so very cold, as if ice should coat the windows. He turned, disappearing from Amelda's view, and slow footsteps headed towards the door, the sound as final as the last nails hammering into a coffin. It brought Amelda back to reality as if cold water had been thrown in his face.

"Wait...Kaiba." Amelda struggled further up when the sound of the brunette's footsteps proved that he had barely hesitated. The sudden movement caused pain to tear through him as if he had been shot all over again and he gritted his teeth, making a small gasp despite his best efforts to keep silent. He closed his eyes, trying not to be overcome by dizziness. "Please." The hoarse plea was so quiet that he thought he must have uttered it only in his mind.

There was something that sounded like a muffled curse and then hands pressing him back to the bed. "Stay still, fool," a voice said harshly, and he'd never been so glad to hear it.

A hot tear unexpectedly slipped down his cheek and disappeared into the pillow, half from the pain from his movements, and half because he had lost something he hadn't realized he had valued. No, he hadn't lost it, he'd thrown it away because he didn't want to be hurt again, didn't want to care for someone more than they cared for him. He thought of Miruko and shuddered at the nightmare that had become the story of his brother's life.

Thinking that Miruko was going to be taken away from him had only been an easy front to ward off his uglier fears. Like whether Miruko even wanted his brother back, or if he'd end up in jail for the illegal weapon possession, firing the gun, gang membership…there was too much to think about. He just didn't know what to do with Miruko, and with his own life. Maybe it was better that he might not live to see the next morning.

Suddenly a cool hand covered his forehead and fingers brushed lightly over his eyes, unceremoniously wiping away the tears. "I'm here. Now stop crying, it looks ridiculous whether you're dying or not. I've been where you are before, like nothing in the world can save you, and I'm sorry I was the one who got you into this whole mess by finding your brother. But I'll get you out of it, too."

Those talented fingers rubbed soothing circles on his temples and ran through the silky strands of his deep crimson hair. Amelda balanced on the edge of consciousness, hearing his words but finding them incomprehensible for the most part. Surely that wasn't Kaiba; he'd never apologize especially when it wasn't even his fault, and he must have heard wrong...

"I wonder why am I talking to you, anyway. You'll just walk away in the end like they all do." There was a hint of bitterness but Amelda thought the speaker, this false-Kaiba, sounded like how he felt right now, resigned and so tired that he didn't want to fight anymore and wasn't sure why he did. But despite the words, the hand stayed on his forehead, cool to his burning skin, and so he struggled to open his fevered grey eyes.

The room was a blur until he blinked and vaguely saw Kaiba's face, expressionless and more shut-off than he'd ever seen it, completely at odds with what he thought he had just heard. The fever must have been messing with his mind. But Kaiba leaned over him, surprise flickering across his face for a moment as he realized the patient was now awake, and those blue eyes weren't cold at all, but dark with hurt.

"I won't walk away." The words slipped out before he realized he'd said them, but Kaiba wasn't supposed to look like that. That was the only thought he could focus on, that the strongest person he knew shouldn't be standing with such bleak and empty eyes. Not because of something _he'd_ said in anger, when he'd instinctively used what he knew would hurt Kaiba the most. "I won't."

There was something beeping rapidly in the background and Amelda closed his eyes, annoyed at the sound and wishing it would stop. It didn't bother him soon though and he felt like he was floating, weightless and insubstantial, not understanding when he heard Kaiba yell angrily for something and heard people running around, the sound of their feet on the white linoleum floor dull somehow soothingly rhythmic.

"Code blue, code blue—" Yes, Amelda thought dreamily, he'd taken some of the pain out of those blue eyes, and he was glad he did. Kind of proud of it, actually. He wished he could see Miruko again, tell his brother that he loved him no matter where he'd been and what he'd done to survive.

"_All you have to do is stay alive, so don't you dare give up on me now, damn it!" _Someone was gripping his hand too tightly and irritated, he tried to find his way back to consciousness, surprised when he couldn't. The darkness was welcoming though, and he found it was much easier to just embrace it.

- o - o - o - o -

When he woke again Kaiba was sitting next to him, with something like an expression of relief when he saw that Amelda's eyes were open. He would have thought that he had dreamed the whole thing, but as Kaiba got up and made to leave, he casually said over his shoulder, "Don't forget your promise."

Kaiba didn't mention anything about how the doctor had said at one point that Amelda was going to die, or say that he'd watched as they performed emergency surgery on the young man, or that in his frustration he'd argued with the doctor and told them to do any damn procedure, no matter how expensive or how little Amelda's chances of living were, because he'd pay for it. Or how he had gone to the top of the hospital's hierarchy of management to override the rules so that Varon, Raphael, and himself could be with Amelda even though they weren't immediate family. He didn't mention any of it, but Amelda would find out later from Raphael and Varon.

The brunette gave him his customary smirk, only there was no malice in it. Kaiba's eyes were shadowed from exhaustion and worry, and Amelda thought he looked like he had gone to hell and back. Nothing had happened to Mokuba, had it? But he doubted that Kaiba would be around if anything had, and he began to think, as he tried to piece together what he remembered, that Kaiba had been there right next to Miruko, Varon and Raphael in those brief moments when he had been awake. How strange.

If he had looked through the small glass window on his hospital door, Amelda might have seen Kaiba in the hallway, leaning against the wall with exhaustion and no small amount of relief after the two day battle to save the redhead's life. _If _he had looked…but Amelda, fortunately for Kaiba's pride, was too weak to do so.

He looked up at the white ceiling, remembering his promise, and wondered what he had done to end up being friends with Seto Kaiba.

- o - o - o - o -

"Amelda?"

"Uhh." Did they really have to wake him up now? He'd dreamed about his childhood, before the war. He tried to hold on to his memory of his mother and father embracing each other, the last time before his father was enlisted. It'd been the last time they'd seen him. Two months later the bans had been posted and they'd found out he had died in combat.

Miruko had been so little…did he even remember their father? Amelda frowned and realized what the problem was. Miruko wasn't little anymore, he was almost grown up, but not quite.

"I know you're awake so open your eyes."

Something tugged at his hair and his eyes shot open at the indignity he was suffering. The culprit was leaning over him, a wide smile on his face. Amelda gave a mental snort. Little brothers. Hmph.

"You slept for two whole days while we were watching over you." Miruko rolled his eyes in exasperation but visibly brightened. "But the doctors say that you're going to be fine now and that all you need is some rest."

"Huh."

"Not very talkative, are you?" Miruko gave another playful tug on his hair but backed off at the glare that he received for it. He sat down on the chair occupying the space besides the bed and Amelda looked over, surprised at all the junk littering the table.

"What's all that?"

"It's from the kids at the orphanage you spend time at. That, and Mokuba decided to get you a lot of stuff, Varon too, and Raphael bought _flowers_—you should have seen the look on the lady's face when he walked into the shop—for you."

Miruko gave him a horrifyingly pink card, which he reluctantly opened, only to find that all the kids at the orphanage had written little messages for him. Despite himself, Amelda smiled at the bright scrawl of crayon decorating the inside. He set it aside to look at his younger brother, whose expression had turned serious.

"Amelda, I'm so sorry about before," Miruko said in a rush. "I—well, Kaiba, actually—that is, he made me realize a lot of things. I thought you'd forgotten about me, I didn't know you did all that for me. Battling Kaiba, joining DOOM, everything. He told me all of it. I blamed everything on you when you left me in that tank and they took me prisoner. I guess when I saw you all I felt was resentment that you left me behind…"

"It's all right, Miruko. I understand." Amelda reached out to hold Miruko's hand and the teenager let him.

"No, I have to tell you. You have to know I do," he bit his lip and looked away, and Amelda was about to interrupt before he continued on. "I mean, you're my brother, I've always…always looked up to you. Loved you. I still do."

Those grey eyes identical to his own were glassy with tears and Amelda squeezed his hand, about to speak before a sharp knock on the door interrupted them. An uniformed police officer entered the room along with a young woman. Amelda stared in disbelief as the police officer walked up to Miruko and handcuffed him. Kaiba entered and Amelda looked over at him, but his face was impassive.

"Miruko is to be taken in for questioning and then Ms. Miragashi here, from social services, will determine what's best for him at the moment."

"What are you doing? You can't take him away!"

"Please understand. Miruko is an underage minor and the government is legally able to take him into custody. For his involvement in the shooting and his suspected membership of the gang known as the Bloods, I'm required to secure him. I've left more information with Mr. Kaiba here. I'm sorry."

He led Miruko out even as Amelda sat up, trying to follow. Kaiba placed a restraining hand on his shoulder that Amelda angrily shrugged off. "They won't take Miruko away from me again. I won't let it happen!"

"Calm down, Amelda," Kaiba said implacably.

Amelda stopped and glared at him. "You were supposed to stop them!"

"This couldn't be prevented. It's temporary and in a few hours I'll get Miruko out on bail. Amelda, we can battle out custody in the courts if we have to. I won't let him be separated from you again. A promise for a promise, you might say."

Amelda stared at him for a moment and then nodded. _I trust him…_

- o - o - o - o -

Notes: Thank you all for your encouraging comments; I really appreciate them and they mean a lot to me so I hope you continue to read and review!


	9. Promises to keep

Promises to keep

By ElveNDestiNy, written July 26, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Sorry for the three-month wait, everyone. It took one special reviewer to remind me to 'revive' this story again, and I'm so glad you did. All of your reviews have been so encouraging, especially since this is obviously not a 'mainstream' kind of story. **Thank you**!

Oh yeah, I don't know if I ever mentioned it before now, but Amelda and Miruko's last name will be McAlister because that is a legitimate Scottish name (and the Alister part, well, duh). According to some, they are supposed to be from there. Of course, this is never clarified, even though Raphael had France and Varon had Australia, probably because Amelda's the one with the _war_ in his country.

- o - o - o - o -

"When will Miruko be released?" he had demanded, practically all the time. Today was no reprieve, of course. Kaiba was frustrated enough to entertain brief thoughts of taping Amelda's mouth shut with masking tape. It didn't help that there was a convenient role of tape placed within arm's reach from his current position. For a moment, it was incredibly tempting, until Kaiba squashed the thought by reminding himself that it was most definitely beneath him to do something like that.

They were both in the heart of the Kaiba mansion. More specifically, Kaiba was in his office sitting in front of an array of ultra-flat LCD computer screens and typing rapidly, trying his very best to ignore the irate redhead hovering over his shoulder.

Even the fact that Amelda was in _his _domain was unusual. In fact, it had taken several hours of arguing with Raphael, whom Kaiba had begun to refer to as 'the blond bodyguard who worked out _way _too often for his own good' in the privacy of his own mind. Of course, even after he had worn Raphael down with awe-inspiring descriptions of KaibaCorp's vast resources and the Kaiba mansion's comforts, there was Varon. Varon, who had been so adamant that Amelda should recuperate in the former Doom members' own home rather than in Kaiba's that he had seized Amelda's wrist. Whereupon Kaiba had naturally took hold of the other wrist, and only Raphael's intervention had prevented what would have been a very interesting game of tug-of-war.

He was still humiliated over _that _little loss of control. But hey, he'd won, and that was what counted. Although if he had known that Amelda would be practically breathing down his neck as he contacted the chief of the social services, Kaiba might have decided that he really, truly, didn't want to win. Suffice to say that the last two months had been…interesting. And if Kaiba found that he had abnormal blood pressure patterns, he knew exactly where to place the blame: right on Mokuba and Amelda.

Succinctly put, they were amazing partners in crime. Of course, it made perfect sense that he should sacrifice his sanity for their amusement. _To them, anyway,_ he thought glumly. The arrival of Amelda seemed to have caused Mokuba to revert back to age, say, _five_, if one was being kind. Except grown-up Mokuba had things—such as a driver's license and a car—that younger Mokuba hadn't, so of course it made everything a hundred times worse. If he thought about it too much, he might even say that he could see Varon's influence rubbing off on his brother. Horrific.

"_When, _Kaiba!" It sounded perilously close to a whine.

His fingers flew over the black keyboard for another few moments before a notice popped up on the central computer screen, and Kaiba sat back in satisfaction. He could finally answer that annoying question and shut Amelda up.

"Any time today," he said casually, as if he'd known that information all along. He smirked at the priceless expression on Amelda's face, before the voice of prudence chose to make itself present in his head, sadly enough. "Just because we get to keep him during the trial doesn't guarantee that you'll get custody of him, Amelda," he warned. "But since Miruko's turning 18 pretty soon anyway, even if we do, well, _lose_,"—the thought crossed his mind that that word should really be banned from the Kaiba lexicon—"it'll only be a temporary thing."

Amelda gave him a suspiciously mocking glance that had him grinding his teeth in irritation. He was actually trying to help him, after all. It wasn't like he was suggesting that it _was _possible that he could lose. There was that word again. He couldn't think of anything else he hated quite that much, with the exception of a particular idiotic blonde mutt and his equally idiotic friends.

Amelda smiled. For one moment, Kaiba was aghast at the thought that Amelda was laughing at _him_—how dare he, Kaiba had practically saved him!—and then when cool rationality took precedence in the hierarchy of his mind again, he realized that he had never seen that particular expression on Amelda's face before. Not that it was strange, considering that Kaiba himself never did something as lowly as smiling. Unless it was a smirk, of course, which happened to be one of his favorite expressions, when he decided to show any.

"Well, I don't suppose you have some spare time today for picking up that wayward brother of yours?"

No answer was needed, of course.

- o - o - o - o -

_Oh yes, it definitely got worse when Miruko joined them_. When the third miniature explosion could be heard even in his sound-proofed office, Kaiba was about to go rushing out to find what the trio were up to. Then he wondered whether it would seem cowardly if he happened to stay in his office and found himself some fascinating paperwork, rather than go investigate.

Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately, for his pride—Mokuba burst into the room, stopping right outside of the doorway. "Seto!"

Kaiba simply stared. He was vaguely aware that he must have a ridiculous expression on his face, but…what _on earth_ had happened to Mokuba? He looked like he was covered in greenish goo, and to prove that it was real, a huge chunk of the slime detached itself from his hair and dropped onto the floor.

"You have to help me! We were testing the simulators—I told you about the project I was working on in my spare time, didn't I?—so Miruko agreed to duel, but then it was totally unfair because Amelda was helping him."

An almost dizzying sense of relief washed over him when his mind sorted out the jumble and Kaiba realized what Mokuba was talking about. His brother had been developing some technology recently with the goal of simulating duel attacks as realistically as possible, without use of holograms, and without causing actual physical injuries. Apparently he'd come up with slime.

Kaiba frowned. Slime was not glamorous, slime was disgusting, and slime was so **not **marketable. Then again, envisioning _other _people covered in it—say, a certain pharaoh, or even better, the mutt—might be particularly satisfying. On further thought, Mokuba's idea definitely had possibilities.

"_Set-o!_"

"—_What?"_ He suddenly had a vision of himself and Mokuba five years into the future, and at the scene hadn't changed a single bit.

"Come on! You aren't going to let the Kaiba honor be impugned, will you?" When he didn't reply, the younger Kaiba simply latched onto him and dragged him to wherever it was he wanted to go. "It'll be fun," Mokuba assured him.

_Highly unlikely,_ Kaiba couldn't help but think as they progressed to the main dueling center. It was a mess, but Amelda and Miruko were waiting for them, neither having suffered the effects of the goop on Mokuba. The first incongruous thought that flashed across Kaiba's mind was that Amelda needed some serious wardrobe help. First of all, the trench coat was a fashion statement that belonged solely to Kaiba, period. It was practically a registered trademark. Second of all, indignant claims to the trench coat industry set aside, Amelda's penchant for tank tops about three sizes too small for him was simply very, very unfortunate.

"Come to join your brother in defeat, Kaiba?" Amelda rested gloved hands on his hips, and Kaiba debated whether those articles of clothing should be added to the ever-increasing list of "things in Amelda's closet that should really be burned." Over the last few months, he'd almost gotten used to the three former DOOM members' choice of apparel, which was a scary thought in of itself.

"Hey, at least this time it'll be fair!" Mokuba shot back. "Two against two, ready?"

Kaiba frowned. "Hey, wait, Mokuba. I didn't agree to anything."

"You aren't going to _betray _me, are you, Seto?" Mokuba demanded with wide eyes. "We're in this together! Let's show them who's _really _better." It should've been silly, and yet it was as surprisingly effective as always.

With a sigh, Kaiba pulled out his deck from the pocket of his trench coat, but he was almost anticipating a good duel. Of course no one could never come close to his level except for an irritating, tri-color-haired, vertically challenged Yugi. It'd been a while since the last mildly interesting duel he'd had, and Amelda had certainly proved to be a high caliber duelist, from the clashes they'd had in the past. Come to think of it, this was the perfect opportunity to prove that that one incident of a draw was a fluke, just sheer luck, in fact.

Kaiba smiled, remembered himself, and changed it to a smirk. Either way, he was feeling damn good about this. "Since we so clearly have the advantage, and you guys are technically our guests, I guess you have the honor of the first move, Amelda."

The irritation that flashed like lightning through grey eyes at his words was immensely satisfying to see. Kaiba handed his deck to Mokuba, and Amelda gave his over to Miruko. Finally looking up, Kaiba saw that Amelda's smirk practically matched his, and it was on. It was _so _on.

He tilted his head slightly in mocking acknowledgement, while Mokuba and Miruko shuffled each other's decks along with those of the respective brothers.

Four voices rang out in a sharp burst of sound. "Duel!"

- o - o - o - o -

Two hours, a dozen monsters, and a Rain of Mercy later, Kaiba had experienced Mokuba's disgusting slime but was also intensely happy. Miruko had just made the fatal mistake, and in approximately three turns would lose all his life points, meaning that the Kaiba brothers would emerge from this as definite champions. It was petty to think of gloating rights, but Kaiba could just taste sweet revenge on his tongue when he thought about how annoying Amelda had been during all the last two months. Now he would have superb ammunition with which to needle the redhead back.

Kaiba couldn't help but smile a little smugly at Amelda, who clearly knew that he was in the loser's position. He glanced over to Mokuba on the right corner of the duel area and tilted his hand slightly so Mokuba could see the top card. It was the third Blue Eyes White Dragon, and there were already two on the field. In one turn, Kaiba would be able to summon it to the field, and Amelda's protective Swords of Revealing Light would vanish…leaving Miruko's dragon monster completely vulnerable to attack.

Happily occupied by such thoughts like the question of how much slime an attack by Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon would produce, and how Amelda would look in it, Kaiba almost didn't notice Mokuba's head turn side to side in a small negative shake. He just barely prevented himself from gaping like an idiot at his younger brother.

Instead, he gave Mokuba another pointed look and took the BEWD card in his hand, flipped it over, and held it straight out, wondering if maybe Mokuba had suddenly developed vision problems. Or was he _that _bad at arithmetic? No way, Mokuba had proven to be just as intelligent as himself, and since he happened to be a genius…

_This is the third BEWD! What could possibly be wrong? We're going to win! _Kaiba felt like shouting when Mokuba shook his head again in the negative.

Then all of a sudden it hit him, and only years and years of practice let him keep a relatively unreadable expression. Mokuba wanted them to…_lose _to Amelda and Miruko? No way! That was insane! _Mokuba_ was insane. He had an insane little kid for a brother. Yes, that must be it. Lose. Him, _Kaiba_, _former world champion, CEO, saver-of-the-McAlister brothers' asses? _Lose._ LOSE!_

How could Mokuba want to _let _Amelda and Miruko win? Worst yet, his brother had a glint in his eyes that told him that Mokuba was going to be obstinate about this, and when Mokuba made up his mind, the world usually rearranged itself around him, not rearranged him. That unwritten law even applied to Seto Kaiba, who ironically expected the same thing for himself.

"Your turn, Kaiba. Did you fall asleep or something?" Miruko demanded after a rather long pause as Kaiba waged war internally against phantom Mokuba rummaging and rearranging his mind.

"We're waiting, you know," Amelda's voice finally penetrated his skull and Kaiba looked up with some resignation. When it came to Mokuba, he reflected glumly, he was almost always the loser.

"I play, uh…" Well, technically the idea was, of course, that he _let _Amelda and Miruko win, meaning that he could've taken control of the duel at any point. He could've won easily, but he was gracious enough not to humiliate Amelda, right?

Aware that the McAlister brothers were giving him some suspicious looks and that Mokuba was staring very hard at him right now, Kaiba finally forced his hand to take out his Dark Assailant. "I play Dark Assailant, attack mode." It had a paltry 2000 attack points. Compared to the Blue Eyes White Dragon that his hand was just _itching _to play…

But no, he had to make this somewhat convincing, because Amelda was certainly smart enough to figure out when his opponent had suddenly stopped playing to win. Out of the corner of his eye, Seto saw Mokuba give him a smile, and underneath his breath he grumbled at manipulative younger brothers.

It turned out that Amelda didn't need much encouragement. The duel was finished six turns later, with Mokuba reaching zero life points first. Kaiba raised a suspicious eyebrow to that, especially given that Mokuba seemed to have a better hand than he was playing. He couldn't possibly have _three_ Kuribohs in his deck. Even Yugi was ridiculous enough only to have one. What really got Kaiba angry, however, was the pure fact that at the defeat, Miruko's dragon monster spewed forth a torrent of grayish slime, about as appealing as being covered in slugs.

_Point one,_ Kaiba thought tiredly. _If your brother suggests anything to do with slime, refuse. Do not be tempted by visions of your enemies covered in slime_. He repressed a sigh at that. _Point two, if younger brother decides to drag you into a duel and then somehow convince you to purposefully lose, remember to clobber said brother. _

Life all seemed about ten times better, however, when he trudged down from the platform and towards Mokuba, practically leaving a slime trail—that trench coat was going to need to be _burned_—and happened to see Miruko exchange a rough embrace with Amelda. No more tears, no more regrets, just a tough, durable sort of love. They'd both changed, both lost a great deal, but somehow had never lost what was essential.

And Kaiba discovered that sometimes losing was worth it.

- o - o - o - o -

The courtroom was silent except for the distinctively accented voice of the judge, who at least sounded kind. Kaiba had checked out his statistics, however, and he knew that the judge generally awarded thirty percent of his legal guardianship cases to the family. The other seventy percent usually went to the government-run stations in the form of orphanages, temporary families, and so on. Granted, most of the cases involved children far from their majority, usually with the median age of perhaps six or seven, but even so…

Miruko, standing between himself and Amelda, almost fidgeted and caught himself. Dressed up in a suit and pale from nerves, he looked far younger than his nearly seventeen years of age. All the bravado that Kaiba had seen from their first few meetings had simply disappeared. He didn't look anything like a possible gangster now, or that he would even know how to hold a gun. Appearances were deceptive, but they usually did not alter Kaiba's attitude towards people _that_ much.

Kaiba wasn't sure if this new youthfulness would help or hurt their case. After all, if he was older the judge might simply decide to award legal guardianship to the government, since he would soon reach his majority anyway. However, if he was younger, the judge might decide that it wasn't in Miruko's best interest to have Amelda take care of him, so to speak.

"Amelda," Miruko said softly but clearly. He glanced at Kaiba and back to his own brother rather pleadingly. Amelda took the hint and leaned down to hear Miruko divulge whatever was troubling him.

"Amelda, I'll run away again before going back to an orphanage. I really will." Despite the attempt at privacy, Kaiba heard everything. For some reason, it tore at his heart in a way that few other things did. Maybe it was because he had been in the same situation before, and he knew what it was like.

"Don't be silly, Miruko," Amelda said sharply, but the tension in him belied his harsh words. He was just as worried as Miruko, if not more. "We can trust Kaiba."

That last part was said in a louder voice and Kaiba was thankful that Amelda had been considerate enough to include him in the conversation properly. The statement itself made him feel worse, though. He trusted himself, for one thing, and he trusted the power of his empire in the gaming and technological worlds. But all that was useless now, and everything lay in the hands of the judge. They could only hope that he would do the right thing.

"I'm sorry I threw it away," Miruko said suddenly as they were waiting to be called. Amelda shifted restlessly besides him, looking confused at the non sequitur. Kaiba had insisted on something a little more formal than the tank top—and had conveniently removed the object from any possible place where it might serve as an enticement for wearing.

Frankly, Amelda didn't understand how people could possibly spend so much money on a suit when other clothes worked perfectly fine. He wisely decided not to voice this out loud, since Kaiba could have given him a three hour-long lecture about why appearances were everything in business, law, and so many other professions.

"Threw what away?"

"Oh…I meant Ziggurat. I didn't know you kept it for so long, or that you remembered me."

Amelda shook his head. "It's all right, Miruko. I kept it in memory of you, but now that you're here, what use is a plastic toy figurine? It was a part of our past but maybe now we'll have a chance to start a new future. Look at Kaiba and Mokuba. The important thing is that we're together again."

"All right."

Scant moments later, Miruko stiffened as his name was called, and then he was escorted away to his seat. He gave them a small smile that went unnoticed by the judge.

The social worker hovered around them like an annoying bee, and Kaiba, temper already short, wished that she could disappear. It would be a gross injustice if Amelda and Miruko were separated, but he'd learned that life was significantly more unfair than fair a long time ago.

But what would the judge's decision change, anyway? They had all they needed. Even if they were separated, Kaiba didn't think that would change much. Of course, his panel of three lawyers might find this to be a drastic stop to their career goals, but it was the unseen that was important. The legal aspects perhaps were symbolic, but they were ultimately useless. You could be a guardian to the body, but not to the heart, and those more essential ties were invisible.

Watching Miruko and Amelda, Kaiba knew they'd never be separated in spirit.

- o - o - o - o -

Notes: Well, this didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped, but I think it's decent for now. There are probably a dozen typos and borderline OOC-ness, so I'll edit it more later. Your suggestions would definitely be helpful. That said, **please review!**

Thanks – ElveNDestiNy

_F.I. - "_This isn't a tale of heroes. It's about fate bringing two lives together in unlikely ways so that they run parallel. And in this interlude of intertwined fates, lasting however brief or long, both lives are changed forever."


	10. Bittersweet smiles

Bittersweet smiles

By ElveNDestiNy, written December 19, 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Sorry for the long wait; I don't know why, but it's always hard for me to push myself to finish something. I guess in my mind I classify it as 'finished' simply because I can see the ending perfectly, and so I never bother to write it down. Enjoy!

- o - o - o - o -

There had been a lifetime's worth of change in just two months, Amelda reflected as he tightened the buckles on his arms, checking his reflection quickly to make sure nothing was out of place. His usual self looked back at him from the mirror: dark gloves, reaching past his elbows, dark trench coat, and dark red hair. He'd changed to a cerulean tank top that for once didn't bare his midriff, and the shades obscuring his grey eyes matched, gleaming silver-blue.

The descent down the sweeping double stairs of the Kaiba mansion was still odd, despite the fact that he'd had plenty of time to get used to it. It was a beautiful place, the double arches of stairs meeting at the top, like a slightly curved, upside-down V. But the luxury of space only emphasized the emptiness of the house.

Miruko met him at the foot of the left stair that he had taken, looking decidedly resolute. He would have already spoken to Mokuba, of course. They had become amazingly close for such a short period of time, but Amelda wasn't too surprised. Mokuba was a natural extrovert, and Miruko had been deprived of friendship for far too long. Seeing him, Amelda felt a surge of thanks, though to no particular person or even deity, simply because he'd won legal guardianship of his brother after all. Though this was probably due to Kaiba's influence more than anything else, unless one counted things like fate and destiny.

For a moment, doubts filled Amelda again. Wasn't it just easier for them to stay here, to forget the past? They'd rebuilt half their lives in Domino City, starting when Amelda had first confronted Kaiba. It was rather incredible, all that had happened since—the overwhelming discovery that Miruko hadn't been killed, the moment when Amelda had first seen his brother after so many years, in Kaiba's office. It was almost enough to convince him that miracles did happen.

"Are you sure, Amelda?"

Miruko's voice jerked him back into the present, but Amelda didn't answer for a moment. He'd been the one to suggest it—that they return to visit their past, to lay to rest the memories that had haunted both of them from childhood. But did he really want to leave Domino, when it was so much easier simply to move on? Raphael and Varon were here and the Kaiba brothers were here. Domino was his home now. The problem was, Amelda didn't think they could ever move on, without seeing what had happened to the war-torn country they had left.

"I don't know," he said at last. "Look, Miruko, it's as much your decision as it is mine. If you don't want to leave Domino…" _If you don't want to go back…_

Miruko regarded him with dark, serious eyes, and then nodded slowly. "I think…it's hard to say why, but I think we need to say goodbye."

It was exactly what Amelda had been unable to express and he met Miruko's gaze with something like relief, glad that his brother understood and even agreed.

"But before we go, there are other goodbyes to make, aren't there?"

Amelda hesitated, half wishing that they could simply slip away – he could leave a note, or Mokuba could pass on the news to his brother. Despite having lived for over two months under the same roof, he still regarded Kaiba with some wariness. Past enmities and prejudices aside, they simply had a relationship that wasn't exactly comfortable for either. Then again, that was probably what made it so special, Amelda mused.

He'd been an enemy, and now he was a friend, but those were shallow words, incapable of describing exactly what was between them. Well, Amelda didn't really know, and he was willing to be Kaiba was just as confused as well. Whatever else they were to each other, since 'friends' didn't seem to quite cover the depth or strangeness of the bond they found between them, Amelda could only say that Kaiba had changed his life forever. He supposed that two strangers, having saved each other's lives before, might feel the same sort of awkwardness – and indeed, Kaiba _had_ as good as saved his life.

"Miruko, maybe we should just go," he suggested tentatively, somehow certain that his brother was disappointed in him. "He probably doesn't want a goodbye, anyway. You know how much he hates any sort of emotional scene."

There was no doubt who 'he' was, considering that Amelda had paid Raphael and Varon a long visit just yesterday. They'd been supportive of his idea, and Amelda had thanked whoever was watching over them again. They were, quite honestly, probably the best things that had come out of Doom.

"So, you're just going to walk away? After all he's done for us?" Miruko's voice held the edge of accusation, and Amelda firmly kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to see it mirrored by dark grey eyes.

"It's not that simple," he said, and only silence met his weak statement. Miruko's words suddenly brought back a memory with painful clarity…what Kaiba had said to him, right before he'd suffered the relapse in the hospital that almost ended his life.

_You'll just walk away in the end like they all do._

"Not if I can help it," he muttered underneath his breath in response, much to Miruko's surprise.

"What?"

"Actually, Miruko, do you know where Kaiba's at?"

Miruko stared for a moment, wondering at Amelda's sudden change of heart, but too wise to question it. "I asked Mokuba, and he said that Kaiba went out really early today. You could try Kaiba Corp, but it's Sunday."

"He _is _famous for being a workaholic," Amelda commented absently, but he was also wondering where Kaiba had gone. He knew perfectly well, from the days when he'd made a point of studying Kaiba, and from personal observation over the last few months, that Seto made a point of reserving his Sundays for time with Mokuba, since he was so often busy all the rest of the time.

"Well, Mokuba has no clue, so I doubt you'll be able to figure out where he's at," Miruko said. "We might as well just wait. We have at least five or six hours before we have be at the airport, and I'm sure he'll be home before then…unless you want to call?"

The idea brought an unwilling smile out of Amelda and the silver in his eyes warmed. "And say what – 'come home, Kaiba, we're leaving?'"

"Well, you could always try," Miruko said as seriously as he could manage. He became quite alarmed, however, when Amelda simply stared at him, a peculiar expression on his face. "I was only joking…hey, Amelda, are you okay?"

"Fine, Miruko," came Amelda's mumbled reply. "I just realized where he might be. I'm probably wrong, but I might as well try, anyway. I'll drop by and pick you up later, all right?"

"Sure." Miruko hesitated, but curiosity got the better of him. "Where do you think he is, then, if he's not at Kaiba Corp?"

His older brother gave him an unfathomable look, and then said, with the oddest laugh ever, "The cemetery."

- o - o - o - o -

Although he'd half expected it, it was still a surprise when Amelda reached the cemetery and found Kaiba present. He took his time securing the silver motorcycle he'd borrowed from the garage, also secretly observing the infamous…here, Amelda's mind came to a halt. Infamous young CEO of Kaiba Corp? Infamous duelist? Infamous, arrogant, glacial…these words had been frequently used to describe him, but none of them really encompassed everything that was Kaiba. He was simply too complex.

Amelda approached the lone figure slowly, examining Kaiba as Kaiba in turn studied the gravestone. He'd met Kaiba under almost the exact same circumstances not so very long ago, and the entire situation gave him a bad sense of déjà vu. Kaiba had even brought a white rose again.

The sharp snap of a twig beneath Amelda's foot alerted the other to his presence, but when Kaiba spotted him, there was no sign of surprise. The brunette almost seemed resigned to Amelda's presence, just as he had accepted that he would never be entirely freed from Gozaburo.

"Do you believe in fate, Kaiba?" he said as a greeting.

It was not at all what he had prepared to say, but once the words were out, Amelda found that, nevertheless, he was quite interested in the answer.

"I never did, before," was the stoic, unsatisfying reply.

"Before…" he prompted.

"Before I met you."

Amelda bit back an annoyed comment when Kaiba proved to be no more forthcoming than before. He looked so lost in thought that he looked down at the rose in his hand as if he'd forgotten what he was holding. After a moment, he reached out to put it on the aging, mossy marble of the tombstone.

"I guess it's finally an appropriate symbol," he said cryptically. Even so, it wasn't difficult for Amelda to follow Kaiba's thought, perhaps because he simply knew him so well, or because he'd always had a special insight when it came to Kaiba.

"You've finally made your peace with Gozaburo's ghost…and a peace with yourself, too," he said in a low voice. "With who you are. You aren't Gozaburo's heir in anything but name."

Kaiba simply nodded to acknowledge Amelda's matter-of-fact statements, and his thanks, though unvoiced, was heard and accepted anyway. Amelda moved to Kaiba's side and they stood, looking down at the grass that so desperately tried to cover the grave markers.

The sky was overcast and the wind chilly; Amelda briefly wondered if it would rain soon, and hoped that their flight would not be delayed by the bad weather. With that reminder, he realized that he still hadn't told Kaiba that he and Miruko would be gone come morning.

"Kaiba…"

No reply, but he knew he had his full attention when that blue gaze locked with his. He found he couldn't look away, but suddenly he didn't have the heart to say the next few words, no matter how necessary they were. He still hesitated, remembering Kaiba's inadvertent plea, the bitterness behind the words when he'd accused Amelda of walking away as everyone else had.

"Kaiba, we're leaving tomorrow to go back home. Well—it isn't a home, not anymore. I suppose that's here, with Raphael and Varon…and you and Mokuba. But I think we need to say goodbye to the past, before we can try to brave the future."

It sounded so inadequate to his own ears, but he thought that if he added anything, it would only make it worse, so Amelda stood and bit his lip, waiting to hear what Kaiba would say in return. Those blue eyes had looked away, releasing him from their scrutiny, but now he very much wanted to see the expression in them, because he found that he couldn't read the other at all. Kaiba had never been so completely closed to him as now, just when he most wanted to know what he was thinking.

Seconds stretched into minutes, which merged into an indeterminable amount of time, as the air steadily grew colder, and the sky darker, and the heavy clouds more threatening. In desperation, hoping to provoke some sort of response, Amelda blurted out, "What did you mean, when you said you didn't believe in fate before you met me?"

Kaiba finally turned to him, and he was treated to a long, slow blink, and a blank stare that was simply unnerving, under the circumstances. "Well?"

"I never believed in fate," he said then. "Did you ever notice, Amelda, it's always the people who come out on top, that believe in fate? As if they try to justify the unfairness of the world by attributing it to some divine power, and that power plays with human lives as if we're only a game for its dispassionate amusement. I never wanted to believe that I had a destiny laid out before me, that any action I took was absolutely futile, because that would mean that Gozaburo was my destiny, and I could never escape."

"Why the change, then?"

"Tell me, why do you suppose we met, Amelda? We were on such distinctly separate paths, parallel, perhaps, but never to meet. So what kind of force made our two lives intersect?"

"I don't think anyone can answer that, Kaiba," Amelda said soberly.

"But it makes you wonder, doesn't it, if there's something guiding us from the outside? Some sort of…_fate_, for lack of a better word, that brought us together, so that in such an interlude of intertwined fates, our lives are changed forever, beyond what either of us could have imagined?"

Amelda simply looked at him, accepting the questions, but not understanding why this was so important to Kaiba, at least this latter part. He could understand how the idea of being powerless to change the course of one's life might have tormented Kaiba, when he was young and in Gozaburo's control. But Amelda was firmly grounded in practical reality, and he didn't see how fate was in any way relevant to the fact that he and Miruko would be leaving.

Kaiba, interpreting the blank look correctly, only looked slightly exasperated. He began to speak, only to be interrupted.

"I'm not sure if this has anything to do with the fact that I'm leaving, but…Domino is my home now. We won't be leaving forever, we'll come back, soon, hopefully…well, what I mean is… Kaiba, I'm_ not _walking away from you."

He watched the changing expressions on Kaiba's face, as the brunette remembered their exchange months ago in the hospital. Amelda almost cursed himself; no one in his or her right mind, much less the proud Kaiba, would like to be reminded of something like that. Like how much of his vulnerability he had revealed, for example.

Kaiba finally opened his mouth to speak again, but if Amelda had been expecting anything dramatic, he would have been sorely disappointed. "All right. Well, I don't want to make you late for your flight. I suppose Miruko has already told Mokuba, and that your friends know?"

Completely disconcerted by now, Amelda took the opportunity to ask the question that had been haunting him all along. "Kaiba…will you be all right?"

He regretted the words the moment he said them, instantly hearing how silly, how utterly absurd, how inconceivably _ridiculous _they sounded, and knowing that they would probably offend Kaiba more than anything else. He was prepared for the laughter that came after a startled few seconds, but it was not mocking, as he had expected.

"Everything I've said has just gone right over your head, hasn't it?"

Amelda's hostile glare was his only answer. He couldn't believe how patronizing Kaiba could be, having never quite experienced it before.

Kaiba only gave him a bemused smile, one that could only be described of as bittersweet. "Well, things have certainly come full circle…I hope you believe in fate. Goodbye, Amelda."

Amelda couldn't quite pretend that he wasn't slightly hurt by how casually Kaiba had treated the whole thing, especially in comparison to how intent Kaiba had been when he'd been talking about all his philosophical ideas on fate and such.

But what did he really expect, after all? A tearful farewell? Hugs? Long, drawn out speeches on how much each wanted to thank the other? He couldn't begin to imagine something that would be so disgust both of them.

So all he said was, "Goodbye, Kaiba," and began to walk away, shoulders prickling with the thought that he was being subjected to an icy blue gaze. It wasn't until he'd reached the borrowed silver BMW motorcycle outside of the cemetery gates that he realized the heavy weight in his chest was disappointment, because he had somehow thought that Kaiba would at least call out to him, to add something more. Something more than just, _"Goodbye, Amelda." _

But Kaiba hadn't, and that was that – though he had a thousand more things he wanted to say, that he would only remember later, though he'd never thanked Kaiba for giving back his brother, for giving back his life.

He'd resisted the urge to turn around all the way back, but as he put on the helmet and pulled down the visor, he glanced towards Kaiba, knowing that even if the other were watching him, his eyes would be hidden behind the darkened plastic.

He'd never even looked at Amelda. So Amelda had clung to the familiar comfort of the motorcycle and sped away, without another backward glance.

- o - o - o - o -

The land was a very lush green and seemed minuscule from the window of the airplane. Besides him, Miruko had fallen asleep, so Amelda had covered him with a blanket. Left with no one to talk to or anything to do, Amelda couldn't stop his thoughts from replaying his last meeting with Kaiba over and over again.

He smiled bitterly down at the vast expanse of ocean, reminded of a certain pair of stormy blue eyes. Like it or not, he had to admit that he felt a little betrayed, as if he had given his time and secrets to someone, only to find that the other didn't care about him nearly as much. He knew he was missing something important, something about fate…'_I hope you believe in fate,' _what was all that about?

When would they see each other again? Maybe never. Maybe a week later.

Amelda was just about to give up when his overly tired, and thus strangely uninhibited mind suddenly let him see with absolute clarity…and he nearly laughed at how slow he had been. Kaiba had simply worded it poorly, it should have been more like…_I hope you trust in fate_.

He knew the reply he would make, too – _of course I do_.

- o - o -_finis_- o - o -

Dear reader,

Well...the whole experience of writing this has been very special, and I think this has been rather special for you as well. I've said before, there are some things you just write, not because you planned it, but simply because the story's waiting to be told. **Thank you **so much for the support -I'm so glad to see that so many people have chosen this as a favorite story, especially since this is such an unorthodox story. If you read my other things, I hope for many merry meetings in the future...and if your life and mine have only briefly come together through this story, then I wish you a fond goodbye.

That said, **please review**. My secret goal is to reach 100, just because it's a nice, even number - yes, I'm weird like that. If only a third of all the people who have this as their favorite story take a couple seconds to review, I'd be overjoyed.

- E.D.

P.S. For those of you following my Kaiba and Amelda romance (more like angst, but when have I ever written anything else?), **Angel's Grace**, please read my profile. And if you seriously don't get the ending of _FI_, feel free to ask and I'll try my best to reply...just make sure you're logged in, or that you leave contact info!


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